Blog 15 (Dolomites Trip) Friday 24th – Sunday 26th October

Sorry I’m so far behind, I’ve been quite busy, anyway, this blog post is about the trip that I went on to the dolomites, which the school goes on every year. It is for people who do climbing as their physical activity, and is run by Anne, the chemistry teacher. The people who went on were: Me (primo, UK), Francesco (primo, Italy), Petra (prima, Croatia), Pablo (secondo, Mexico), Patrick (secondo, Canada), Lorenzo (primo, Italy), Nancy (prima, Singapore), Prodpran (prima, Thailand), Anna (prima, Canada), Marcela (seconda, Brazil), Alex (secondo, Belgium), Marton (primo, Hungary), Seva (prima, Lithuania), Signes (prima, Denmark) and Job (primo, Netherlands). Aila (prima, Finland) was supposed to come but she was ill. I really felt so sorry for her, we all did.

On Friday I woke at 6, although in reality I hadn’t been asleep for the past hour due to some ridiculous snoring. I managed to stumble into the shower, and then get a piece of bread for breakfast, the only thing possible as there was no milk.

On the van I slept for an almost glorious three hours, before waking gradually to find simply stunning mountains overshadowing us in the (relatively) tiny minibus. As I drifted between sleeping and not sleeping, new mountains would appear out of the mist, while other peaks disappeared round corners or into fog.

After a brief stop off to the toilet just outside the main city in the area, Cortina, we reached the starting point for the day’s adventure. A car park that would normally cater for skiers in the winter, close to both a cable car station up the road and across the road a ski run with those little ski lift things that you sit on and you get pulled up by.

After a little walk up the slope, we reached the proper starting point, just past a now crumbling world war one hospital in the foot of the mountain, which is the INSERT. The dolomites area is literally steeped in history, with large amounts of fighting between Italy and Austria-Hungary over the border, being fought here. We found the start of the via Ferata, essentially where the mountain went really steep, which was marked by steel cables.

Basically via Ferata means ‘iron way’, and what has been done is steel (originally iron, hence the name ‘iron way’) cables have been put on many of the mountains in the area which allow you to scale a mountain in a way otherwise impossible, due to the steepness and precariousness of the ascent. About every metre or so is a peg anchored into the rock, to which the main steel cable feeds through. This means that if you were to fall you would only fall about a metre as your harness (oh yeah I forgot to mention that, everyone has a standard climbing harness, with two clips attached to short ropes, which are in turn attached to the harness) would catch you. It also means that you wouldn’t knock everyone over like dominoes. This course seemed pretty much brand new, and as it turned out it was. Anne (the Chemistry teacher who runs the climbing activity, and who has organised this trip for pretty much the last 20 years. She really has dedicated her life to the UWC movement, to Atlantic college in the seventies and then UWCAd from its opening in 1983) told me later that the course was actually constructed by the Italian mountain army, the alpini, as a training course, so it wasn’t on any official trails or maps, meaning it was relatively unknown. Although as Anne explained, climbers tend to tell each other stuff so really a lot of people knew about it.

The climb up was quite fun, actually, and was made all the better when you looked behind or down and saw the incredible view. We ate lunch (very nice sandwiches prepared by tuttidi, the supermarket next to the school) just before the peak, as we decided to wait until everyone had arrived before getting to the actual peak. At the top instead of the cairn I’m used to in Britain, there was a cross, which had also been coated in barbed wire (either to stop the cross disintegrating or blowing away or as a warning. Or both) which was most probably from WW1. There was also a little wooden dug out, which was apparently also from the war. From the top you could also see the cable car station on top of the mountain across, which was where we ended up on Sunday (see below).

We descended the mountain by foot, which was (as often seems to be the case) more difficult than the climb up. It’s more just that it hurts your knees quite a bit. As we paused for a photo on top of a huge rock, I succeeded in bringing a lot of attention to myself by doing a little trick taught to me on our ski trip to Montgenevre, in the Alps, in year 7, by our instructor Eric. Basically, once you have finished with a juice carton, find a small twig thick enough to jam the hole where you put the straw, blow up the carton, shove the twig in, put the carton on a hard flat surface (eg a rock) and stamp. BANG. Hahahaaa… Very satisfying, although it genuinely did sound a like a gunshot with the huge echo. I recommend you try it.

At the old hospital, there was a rock, which Alex had climbed and I followed. I then proceeded to sit on it and for some reason everybody else, who were sitting about 10 metres away on a wall, started saying that I was the king. It’s kind of hard to explain a joke thing like this, but anyway I took to it like a baby turtle to the sea, singing Rule Britannia whilst lording over the ‘commoners’. We were most amused.

It then took about another hour to reach our lodgings, next to Lago Landro if you know the area (I certainly didn’t). Basically the building was a large cottage thing, with a large kitchen and dining room (with a glorious log burning stove) on the ground floor, and then up some creaky steps was a room with three beds (for the teachers), a bathroom, and then two large bedrooms, one for the boys, one for the girls, each for 10 people. Five beds were on the floor and then cleverly there were five above on a sort of structure put into the ceiling. It’s hard to explain. I would’ve taken a photo, if my camera hadn’t decided to die on the journey in the morning, just after I woke up.

There was also a further attic bedroom but we didn’t use that, as any room we used had to be tidied…

As we arrived we met the parents of a former student (interestingly enough she is doing her maters at Durham), who comes from Sudtirol/Alto Adige, the region which the dolomites is in. For the pat five years or so, apart from when the house was being redone, they had got us this accommodation for a really good price.

Most of us went into the forest literally just outside the house to play games, such as Ninja, human twister, and then more running around games in the forest, like one where you have one person in a set spot and then everyone else goes to hide nearby, and if the person can see anyone shouts their name, so they’re out. They can then shout bread and water and hold out their hand (shutting their eyes of course) and everyone has to run, hit the hand and get back to hiding within 10-15 seconds. The winner is whoever is closest to the static person. Another game, which was most frustrating (but fun at the same time) was where everyone hid in the woods, and then if I saw them they had to follow right behind me, but if someone saw them, waved to them and they waved back they could run to a different hiding place. Annoyingly half the people hadn’t understood the rules properly so kept running away with no prompting… It was fun anyway, and provided a perfect excuse for Patrick to try and mock (and consequently fail epically at copying) my accent. ‘I say Robin, can’t you find me?’… etc etc.

Another amusing thing was finding that the cows in the nearby field all had bells round their neck, which jangled constantly, meaning there was a surreal chiming all night long…

Dinner was a delicious pasta, cooked by Paola (one of the Italian teachers from the school who helps Anne to run the climbing), Lorenzo, Francesco and Anne.

After saying goodbye to the parents of the student, we played a few card games, and I attempted to remove a splinter I had picked up from the ancient floor, even through my thick woollen socks (I think I succeeded, but I couldn’t tell due to the deepness of which I had dug into my toe and all the blood. At least the sharp end of the safety pin I had used to dig it out had been sterilised by Anne in the fire of the stove).

Really most of us were just exhausted, so we gradually drifted to bed around 11. As I was drifting off to sleep Patrick, who was on the bed next to me, began to snore. So I moved downstairs and got a very comfy night’s sleep, for the beds were actually far better than the ones at the school. The ones at the school would probably be on the level of, say Scottish (for I have to say, from experience, Scottish youth hostels have always been worse than any of the ones in England I have visited, although naturally I am happy to be proved wrong) Youth Hostel beds… How’s that for a (now that the amount has increased by €5000) €25000 a year scholarship?

Saturday 25^th September

On Saturday we were woken at 7, with some people seemingly having already been up since 6, but then subsequently told as it was raining we could have an extra hour in bed (bad weather meant we wouldn’t be able to do the original course we planned, as it would be too dangerous, so that meant we would probably do something that wouldn’t need as long time). Luckily I hadn’t bothered to get up, meaning I enjoyed my extra hour very much.

We were woken properly at about quarter past eight, to be told that it was snow snowing. Patrick came in to apologise, in an awful British accent, for snoring, and then I went down for breakfast.

After making myself lunch for the day, and then getting dressed (for at that time most of us didn’t realise there was hot water in the shower, and even if there was, it wasn’t the kind of trip where washing was fully necessary…) we put all our kit on, and went outside into the falling snow. The ground was a strange mix of snow and (clean, not brown!) slush, so I immediately set about making one of those snowballs where you roll it in the snow and it gets quite huge. Prodpran had never seen snow before, so it was really remarkable to see her reaction. Suffice to say she seemed happy.

I didn’t actually know what the plan for the day was, I just knew that we were going on a hike instead of a via Ferata. I also knew that Carlo, the climbing instructor, wasn’t coming with us as he thought we would all just end up soaking wet (which we did, but for good reason, as you will see).

Our walk took us on a gradual ascent up a long river valley, and whilst the snow had stopped falling, everything was covered in about an inch of snow, apart from on the path where it was melting and water flowing downwards, a depth of snow which increased as our altitude did likewise.

The sky was beginning to clear by about 11, and as you looked back, we saw an amazing view (see photos) of the mountains backed by blue sky. At the end of the relatively gentle river valley, we then began a ridiculously steep ascent, up a long and winding path. Exhausted we were, but we were at least rewarded by lots more snow, as the altitude was higher, every metre we climbed. And the view was amazing still, and added to by the fact that fog was now seeping into the valley we had just walked through, while the sky above remained blue. I walked with Pablo, Signe, Nancy and Seva, and after a good hour we stumbled to a flat plateau, coated with about a foot and a half of snow, where about half the group was waiting, eating lunch (the other half were behind us). In front lay the famous, Tre Cime, or Three Peaks, and where we had stopped was a flat bit on an altitude of about 2150 metres. Job informed me that Francesco and Anne had carried on to try and get to the rifugio, the refuge, at about 2400 metres, where most people walk to, and that if I wanted I could carry on, but they were just going to wait here.

I decided to carry on, as although exhausted would’ve have been disappointed if I just stopped there. How glad I was that I did. Before the next proper incline, I had about half an hour of walking by myself through almost untouched snow (following Anne and Francesco’s footsteps), in awe of the truly serene beauty of the snow, the mountains, and the sheer vastness of it all. I know it sounds cheesy but I just loved it.

I bumped into Lorenzo just before the steep bit, he was turning back after trying to follow Anne and Lorenzo, which put me off a bit but I thought the least I could do was carry on for a bit. I was mightily cheered, when, about 50 metres above me, and at least a good half an hour’s walk, Francesco spotted me and said (not shouted – for sound travelled incredibly well) ‘Robin!’ Anne then told me just to follow their tracks and we would meet at the top. After a really quite gruelling 45 minutes, I saw the top of a building. As I carried on round the bend, three whole buildings loomed into view. I can’t really describe how happy I was to have reached the top (or not quite, but as far as most people can go, as the photos below show).

The only problem was that when I finally found Francesco and Anne, in the outside bit of the restaurant of the hotel, eating their lunches, was that I had dropped my lunch somewhere between leaving the rest of the group and the rifugio, it must have been one of the many times I stopped to take off layers. I’m not normally a fan of red apples, but never have they tasted so good, when Anne gave me two of her extra supply.

The walk down was fun and fast, with us running a lot of it, and Francesco and I ending up in shorts and a t-shirt.

However as we descended we could still feel the heat of the sun, but we moved into the fog, which had spread up the river valley and on to the mountain proper. Gradually we heard voices and calls. Suddenly the others came into view, about 30 metres away. And what they held in their arms was not a good sign. As we walked towards them, and they rushed towards us, I handed Anne the sandwiches I’d found on the path, knowing that she would be in best position to take care of them, and braced myself. Patrick and Alex were the worst, but really I didn’t mind too much. At least I’d accepted it, whereas Francesco had ran up the hill to the side and as he came down to attack they bundled him down another slope. In all fairness, it was all pat of the fun, and whilst I was slightly peeved, I appreciated that they had been waiting for a good hour and a half (and during this time they had constructed a HUGE snowman, as well as spent an hour having a snowball fight) and everybody received the same treatment as Francesco and I did.

After a group photo, the way back down was nice, in that it wasn’t strenuous, just, as usual, annoying on the knees. If anything, for me, it was a little sad as I knew we were leaving this little secret world up in the clouds to come back down to probably melted snow. And I was right, at our level, the snow had completely gone, save the ball of snow I had made that morning. A group of us had made sure we were at the front of the group (we tended to spread out quite a lot – for example the last people got back half an hour after we did) so after an interesting discussion with Marton, Job and Alex about what we thought about the occupation of Palestine (well you can probably tell what I think of it just from that sentence), joined later by Francesco and Lorenzo, we got back to get the hot water in the shower. Oh how nice it was.

After putting on new, dry, warm clothes I put my other stuff on to dry, and putting on the kettle for the others, I settled down by the fire (or log burning stove).

At around 6 I went with Job to the nearby hotel/bar/restaurant/souvenir shop on the nearby main road. I was looking for postcards and Job the church, which as it turned out was closed. I ended up buying not just post cards but playing cards, both normal ones with pictures of the region, as well as the region playing cards, the ones which I played with with Moritz and I wrote about in my blog a while back. And also a sticker of the area we were in, and a very reasonably priced (€2) guidebook of the region, mainly because it has stuff about the history of Sudtirol.

When I got back, Marcela and Pablo lambasted me (rightly so, in hindsight) for all my pointless consumerisms. Well at least I got some post cards. I stayed talking with them for a while, getting second year knowledge and learning about teachers, the EE, and stuff that you can’t really find out from anyone else, for a while, and attempted to play a card game or two, but really I was just tired so went to bed. Actually something I just remembered was that Anne, when the Italians were making tea (dinner), was reading the guardian weekly, and she recommended it highly. Although they haven’t been quite on time in terms of delivery recently…

After a brief moment where Pablo followed me to every toilet I tried to go to, blocking the door, and the subsequent fight (please, when I say fight, I mean it in the old fashioned sense of jovial scuffle, as in a play fight) between Francesco and I on the one side, and Pablito and Lorenzo on the other, I really did go to bed.

Sunday 26^th September

We had an early start on Sunday, being woken at 6.30. And I was exhausted. And there was very little breakfast, as all we were eating what hadn’t been eaten yesterday. Fortunately most of my clothes had dried, and there was enough bread (just) to make sandwiches for the day’s lunches.

After I packed I went downstairs to the dining room where about half the group was discussing what to do that day. Carlo, the instructor, wanted to take us to a climbing wall, as the weather conditions were still bad at the higher altitudes we were going to. On the other hand most of us thought that it would be silly to not make use of the opportunity we have in the location (as in you can go to a climbing wall a lot more often than the dolomites). So we settled on a via Ferata.

After the hour’s journey to the starting point, we did sort of feel a bit different (as in we wanted sleep, not a mountain), but in the end I’m glad we didn’t not go. And we sang Christmas songs in the van, due to the fact that everything around us was like what Christmas should be  (mountains, snow on the ground and falling, pine trees, log cabins) We were only up the road from our starting point on the Friday, the first climb, at a different car park. Since it was like a blizzard down on our level, we decided to spend a bit of extra money and not do the walk up, instead going up by the cable car. At the station we arrived at I think the mountain was the Falzarego), we got kitted up, sheltering from the storm. Fortunately, it soon ended, and so we before the day’s proper action started, we had a ten minute outside walk along the mountain. In places it was more than precarious, especially the crumbling paths which didn’t have a cable to clip our safety harnesses onto. Although on the plus side at least the temperature was slightly above freezing, meaning that the snow covering the paths was still soft, rather than ice…

We reached the proper start of the via Ferata on the edge of a trail, which gave a stunning view of the mountains in front, as well as the distance between us and the ground. Basically this day’s via Ferata goes right through a huge world war one tunnel that was carved into the mountainside by (I think) Austrian soldiers, while the Italians were attacking from below. This happened quite a lot (border disputes) in the war and there are a number of mountains that had their summits completely obliterated when the Italian army blew them up. Anyway, it was basically a downward tunnel, much of it in the dark, along steep, ramshackle steps, for about two hours. The via ferata cable was also sometimes not exactly well maintained… However, what was amazing was how much of the First World War is still there. Literally there are so many little viewpoints/gunning points carved into the edge of the mountain, and then there are things like the commander’s office, the medical office (both external, as opposed to being carved from the inside of the rock), and there are loads of sandbagged gunning points left, too. At one point (although it was for obvious reasons kept behind a fence) there was even one of the mounted guns still left at one of the positions (Moritz, who wasn’t on the trip, but comes from Sudtirol, told me later that in many of the gunner positions that are dotted in the mountains all over the region – one mountain is called ‘Castello’ – the castle as there are so many indentations from gunner positions – you can still find guns and other untouched items from the war. I also know that there are other via Ferate which use the tunnels, as well as abandoned ones. It’s incredible, really). There were also helpful signs explaining some of the places every now and again (I later found out that the tunnel is a Unesco world heritage site).

At the end of the tunnel bit (approximately half way down the mountain) we came to where would be our lunch stop, a small external area, but which was still sheltered (it must have also been made in the war) by the overhanging mountain. I certainly appreciated having the light, as in the whole journey I was basically borrowing light from Francesco or Lorenzo in front, or Alex behind, as we didn’t have enough head torches.

About half of us then decided to go on an extra walk along the outside of the mountain to the see the canteen (and I know it’s just the normal Italian word for canteen, but it’s still remarkable how both this little hut and our school canteen are both called ‘mensa’) and then further along (along yet more insecure path) an unexplained hut, which had clearly been reconstructed some time since last winter, as the wood was new and some building materials still there. The thing is, though, that I was thinking, how did they get everything up here? So if I’m thinking that for today, how in god’s name did they get everything up in the war? (I later learned that some supplies were brought up by pulleys in the dead of night to avoid them being shot down, but that still doesn’t explain where all the concrete came from…)

The other truly incredible thing was simply imagining what it must’ve been like to live anywhere on this mountain. I highly doubt that they would’ve had the periods of leave and systems such as we have in the army today, in the midst of world war one, so what would it have been like in the middle of winter, at -30 odd degrees? (Centigrade). Also the distance of everything was so great, for example the mensa is a good two and a half hours’ walk from the top, down steep, slippery, dark and cold stairs for two hours, and then along the side of a mountain for a good half an hour. And it was all such a lot for so little gained in territory, in terms of the actual fighting (most of the border changes came in the aftermath of the war).

After eating lunch back where the others were waiting and doing a final rendition of Patrick and Anna’s Canadian song ‘I saw a bear’, we carried on down the mountain, this time reaching the path that we would’ve used to come up and start the via Ferata from below, had the weather not been so bad earlier. Unfortunately, since I was at the front, along with Job, and also the fact the path literally zigzagged down the mountain, it meant that we were prime targets for everyone else (most notably Alex and Patrick) for throwing snowballs at.

I managed to get back at Patrick at least three times, by hiding, Japanese kamikaze-style, behind rocks and/or trees with a huge clump of snow, waiting for Patrick to come by and then launching it in his face. Actually the running away immediately after bit by me wasn’t so kamikaze style… And the last time I took a wrong turning, meaning as I rejoined the path he was able to catch up with me (also my lack of energy helped him) and take further revenge. The height difference doesn’t help, either. Armistice was signed.

Still near the front of the procession, I managed to get to Van numero sei, which was the one going straight back to Duino. Van number one was going via the house where we had stayed, as Pablo had not come on the walk as he was feeling ill, so had stayed and tidied the house. Now I know you might say it’s selfish, but I didn’t particularly want to be travelling home for an extra hour and a half, if it could be helped.

After Paola (the teacher) came down and opened the van, I put my stuff on the seats and then finally managed to go to the toilet. At the shop I also bought a couple of postcards and a souvenir one showing the day’s route.

As I was attempting to sleep in the first part of the journey (very difficult as the van is probably the least comfortable of all of the college’s, due to it being one of the oldest), I compiled a list of what I need if I am to do anything like that (that being the trip) in the future:

-New, sturdy waterproof coat (my cheap one tends to stop being waterproof after a while)

-Gloves (I have some where the lining always comes out when you take your hands out, unless you precisely hold each finger and remove them one by one…

-Head torch, ‘nuff said.

-Hiking backpack. I was using my school bag, which got the bag smelly and also there was not ventilation system for removing moisture from the back, and apparently sweat is the worst thing when it’s cold as it evaporates, losing you body heat.

-Waterproofing stuff to re-waterproof my trusty boots.

Unless I see any of the above cheap I will wait until I’m back into the UK, as things hear are soooo expensive.

I did eventually manage to get to sleep, but when I woke up, after thinking it would surely nearly be the end of our journey, I was annoyed to learn that I had only been asleep for an hour and we still had two hours left…

We stopped off at an almost deserted (but it infinitely nicer than Moto or Welcome Break, on our roads) service station. Since we were all awake by now, after going to the toilet we continued our journey by playing various not particular satisfying games of ‘who is the first person to spot…’ From pink houses to industrials chimneys we moved to road kill and then to giraffes, and then to German soldiers… On the plus side Job had plenty of Dutch liquorice, which is absolutely delicious. Alex also talke to me about how he is either going to go to university in Belgium or the UK. This added to the feeling that I really don’t want to go to any of the US universities… At the moment certainly I am thinking about the UK, specifically Scotland as it is cheaper… but that’s all in the future.

After a longer than expected journey, we got back to Duino and then to Pala climbing store. After sorting out the recycling I went back to Fore, to briefly say hello to everyone, but more importantly to have a long hot shower. I was very pleased when I saw, a note saying ‘you have been missed’ (turned out to be from Sana) and another, although perhaps not so pleasing, note saying, ‘Robin sucks’ next to it. Pesky Italians. After the glorious shower I added to what I had already put in the washing machine (very very smelly) and set it on to wash at number 11.

I then went to check my emails and Francesco came to put his photos on my laptop (helpful for both of us, as I don’t have a camera, and he doesn’t have a laptop). About an hour later, Job walked in and told me how he and Alex had come up with the idea of all the boys (since we all live in fore, it’s easy to organise) wearing suits to the meal we were going to have as a round-off to the climbing trip. So, 10 minutes before I suited up, in my quality ASDA £19 suit jacket, and school trousers (in my defence, I am anticipating to grow, so it would be a waste of money and shame to have to buy and then not be able to wear a more expensive suit. Although I seriously do want a Northumbrian tartan kilt. Interestingly enough, Northumbria tartan is said to be older than Scottish tartan, as remains have been found from an earlier date – 4BC – and we are the only region of England to have our own tartan).

We seriously did look like the mafia.

We met everyone else at the restaurant, and had a lovely meal (it was at da Ciro, the pizzeria, it literally is the only restaurant in the area – Duino is basically just houses, most of them old people or holiday homes), despite the lack of service from the charming waitress. I was placed at the head of the table, in my role as ‘Emperor of Britain’, and we all had a good laugh when Seva tried to order Pizza with sausage and it sounded like she ordered Pizza con paracetomolo (pizza with paracetamol). I also got another chance to talk to Pablo, who I was sitting next to, and then on the way back, about the Mexican stereotype and how much the US is overplaying the border wars. Especially when the USA is instigating most of the border-fire…

When I got back, I emptied the rest of my bag, put the washing out to dry, and spoke to Christian for a bit, and then we had our first room meeting of the year. It actually is very important to communicate and get across our problems and sort out any issues. During the meetings we have decided not to let anyone else in the room until it’s over, and whilst we are taking minutes these are only for us as we want the room meeting to be private.

After a good hour of communication, we ended the meeting and Gabriele went downstairs to work. Moritz then came in for a chat, at which point Zaid saw a scorpion fall onto Gabriele’s vacated position on the end of the bed. I froze for a minute, sort of intrigued, but Moritz grabbed the pad of paper from my hands and dispatched with it efficiently. We seem to be having some what of a scorpion epidemic, recently, signs informing us to tell Siavash (secondo, Iran), Gilbert (secondo, Uganda) or Stefano (primo, Italy) in the event of a scorpion finding, are everywhere. There’s even a dead one (a dead scorpion, not a dead sign…) sellotaped to the door of the day room reminding us that ‘SCOPRIONS ARE NOT CUTE’. I’ll try and get a photo for the next blog.

After a phone call avec mes parents, I went to bed, tired and exhausted after what was now an almost twenty hour day, but happy to have had such a fun weekend.

Photos:

I am sorry to say that none of these photos are mine, due to the fact that my camera died on the journey on the friday morning, shortly after I woke up. So most of these photos are Francesco's, but some are also Anna's or Nancy's, which I have lifted from Facebook.

Friday

Me at the start of the walk

The starting point

Anne, the climbing instructor, strutting her stuff

A view of the abandoned hospital

Lorenzo

Me

Left to right: Lorenzo, Marcela, Francesco, Anne

The five towers

Lunch (almost) at the summit

It does get cold when you stop moving

Our photo at the top

(on the paper it says 'Aila', as she was with us in spirit)

The cross

The mountain named 'The castle' due to its small caves from the war that give it the effect of having windows

The cable car station where we would ascend to on sunday

(although obviously it was different when we actually up there, in the snow)

I'm the one standing up in the grey, with Marcela next to me, Signes in the red, Alex is the tall one and I can't make out any of the others...

(Incidentally this was also very near where I made the BANG)

Me, the king (complete with crown)

With accompanying plebs, bowing down to us from below

Saturday

Breakfast in the morning

Pablo, Signes, Me, Nancy

Actually a really good action shot 

(in the background is the valley we walked along, with the fog slowly encroaching)

A view of the mountains, this snow in the front is where most people stopped for lunch and had the snowball fight (although obviously if you went in the opposite direction to where the camera is facing you would find the large plateau thing)

Me, Francesco and Anne at the rifugio

As I explained to Francesco, it's not Juventus, it's Newcastle...

Moi

Francesco

The famous Tre Cime. It would've been pretty difficult to climb. So that's why we stopped at the rifugio

Me, with shorts, and Anne

I asked Fancesco to take this as these were the footprints that guided me

At the place where we were attacked, photo taken in the aftermath of the war.

To the left is Patrick and in the centre Petra

Sunday

Francesco and Lorenzo, at the start of our pre-tunnel walk

Me, resplendent in my climbing harness and via Ferata equipment

Still on the path, most of this was apparently constructed in the war

Basically to the right of this path was a sleep slope that led to a cliff, which in turn led to the ground

Lorenzo and Francesco at the door of the tunnel

A view out of one of the WWI gunner positions.

(In the front, you can just see the tip of the plank, which is left over from the war)

A view of the tunnel. Lorenzo is at the front, hiding me, with the others and their lights behind us.

Paola (the teacher) on the extra bit, after the tunnel, where we went to see the canteen and the reconstructed building

This is said reconstructed building, with Patrick and Lorenzo

Before the attack...

...and After

Now these two photos below are of roughly the same view. The bottom one is a bit further zoomed out, though. My main point is that it shows the difference between:

On Friday...

...and Sunday

for some reason I couldn't add any more photos... maybe that's a good thing. Anyway, ciao!

Backdated blog: Sunday 19th – Thursday 23rd September

Sunday 19^th September

Sunday was a relatively quiet day. With Raza still in Trieste with his grandparents, I woke up at about 10.15, and finally the storm had subsided, although the weather was nothing special.

After breakfast I did a bit of homework and wrote my blog before deciding to locate the source of the foul smell that had been plaguing the outside of our room for about a week. It turned out to be coming from one of the shoe cupboards that they have in the corridor, and in particular someone had dumped a pair of obscenely smelly socks in the cupboard. Grabbing a bin bag (biodegradable, and it made me feel good that I had bought home items and was now able to utilise them) I put my t-shirt over my mouth stuck my hand in and ran to the bin outside our residence. Although less the smell still lingered…

After mensa I carried on writing my blog for a bit when at about half two Raza burst in (with an extra suitcase) and grabbed his laptop, shouting something about the Man United game, which had started about half an hour ago. I let him take my internet cable when he couldn’t find his, almost out of pity, and he sprinted downstairs to the day room to watch Manchester United beat Liverpool (only just) on some shady Bulgarian website.

Partly because of the smell, partly because of the dust, in the evening we decided clean our room. This consisted of a dustpan and brush wielded by myself, a hoover, wielded by Gabriele, and a mop (obviously after the first two) handled by Raza. Zaid was nowhere to be found.

I bumped into Stefano in the day room as I was checking my emails, and he then asked if I wanted to play poker with his new set from the Hard Rock Café in Venice. So Lorenzo, Stefano, Davide and I ended up playing for a good hour until about 11, when we decided to simply all go all in and then call it a day (by the way, in case you wondering we weren’t using money as we don’t intend to lose it. That’s why we played with chips). Lorenzo won (ish, as really it was just luck on the last hand).

I then decided to further search why there the smell outside the room refused to cease. It turned out that there was another sickeningly odorous pair of socks on top of the cupboard. I also disposed of these.

As has started to become a bit of a tradition for me, I stood at the window for a bit and admired the view. Finally the sky had started to clear up, and the moon was out in all its resplendent glory, reflecting brightly off the sea. The air was also cool and crisp. I tend to find that I can use looking at the sea as a way to find personal space in a place where there is almost none.

I then spoke to mum for a while as she rang late, due to the time difference, but I dint mind. The great thing about Skype is that even if you can’t do computer to computer (free) video calls, you can at least phone or text ridiculously cheaply. We got onto speaking about the language barrier, and I know I have talked about this before, but really it must be so unbelievably difficult to be continually thinking in a different language, not just for talking to people with, but in fact your whole education.

Feeling a bit homesick, I went back to the window, to look at the comforting blinking of the buoys in the sea, and the lighthouse in Trieste, and many miles away across the bay in the tip of Croatia.

After going to the toilet I bumped into Pablito (actually Pablo, but in Mexico family add an ‘ito’ to boys’ names as a sign of affection, and for some reason people at the college call him it), the secondo from Mexico, about his EE and life in general. He also has one of the nicest rooms (in terms of décor).

Annoyingly all hope of eight hours sleep had been vanquished as it was now midnight, although I lay in bed listening to the waves gently lapping the beach at the foot of the cliff (as it turns out the beach is actually private, but if you can get to it it’s normally ok, it’s just the paths down which are either precarious or private. The best way is to go by water, although if you’re swimming you’d do well to watch out for the jellyfish…). As it turned out this noise grow louder until it morphed into the sound of Raza snoring. Grr.

Monday 20^th September

Guess why I woke up early today? Yep, Raza. At least the sky was blue, if the temperature a little chilly.

Ironically in the first maths lesson in which I pretty much understood and remembered what we were looking at (coordinate geometry), I finally asked Tim for extra help. He was perfectly understanding and said for me to highlight the areas in the background knowledge booklet, and some time we would go over them (probably after school). Annoyingly I missed the deadline for giving money into the school maths department for GDCs (graphic display calculators – ridiculously expensive) for them to buy one for me, so will have to get hold of one myself. At least I have a debit card… although probably I will persuade my parents to buy it for me and then send it to me. I should just be glad I live relatively near to Italy (and in the EU) so that it isn’t hard to send stuff to me.

Rather annoyingly in Italian I hadn’t done the homework as in the morning I had thought it was day 1 (so that’s why I did my history homework on Sunday), but actually as we have an eight-day cycle, it was day two, so I did indeed have Italian. Oh well. On the positive side, Viviana informed me that there might still be a chance to go to the conference in Tuscany, if I emailed her that afternoon (which I did, in Italian, with corrections from Davide, so I am on the waiting list).

In economics rather strangely, Lydia, my tutor and also English teacher, sat in the lesson as a pupil. We looked at free-market vs centrally planned economies. At break, waiting to get a sandwich, my Britishness got the better of me when I realised that literally there is no real concept of queuing in Italy, unless specifically told to do so (for example in the large supermarket at Emisfero, the shopping centre in Monfalcone, they have signs saying something like ‘you must queue and wait behind other people who were there first’…). Fortunately the Italians were sensitive to this cultural difference, so eventually let me order.

And then English was a bit ‘meh’, to tell the truth. We carried on looking at moon poems, and at least our group had already gone, but people kept coming up with these deep and elaborate interpretations. Now I don’t mind looking a bit into poetry, but what I don’t like is when everybody sees stuff you don’t, making you feel inadequate. I know that a number of people are just making it up (they told me), but it can be depressing when you can barely come up with an impressive interpretation. At least Lydia gave me space when I thought about a biblical connection in the poem Full Moon and Little Freida, by Ted Hughes. For example Josh told me afterwards how he was blown away by the poem, and it’s funny, as I had to reread it before I began to understand it. Although don’t get me wrong, I think it’s great that people can get such pleasure and emotion out of poems so frequently, it just maybe takes more for it to happen to me… I might see about the possibility of switching to Biology higher (as there are only 6 in the class) and moving to English standard (as it happens there are also only five people in that). I’ll give it a bit longer. I also learnt how passionate Lydia is about poetry and literature…

Although I wasn’t intending to go to mensa that lunchtime, I decided to when I looked out of Fore dayroom and saw a few people (mensa is also gloriously quiet at first, when only a few people have free periods in the afternoon) sitting on the wall outside of the canteen in the sunshine, with a beautiful view of the bay. I sat next to Lindo, from Swaziland (most definitely a separate country to South Africa, also where the only UWC in the southern hemisphere is located) and we chatted for a bit about this and that, mainly about subjects and we had also just found out our creative activities – I got Sustainability – so that was pleasant. Esther, seconda from France, then sat next to us and I talked to her about subjects too. She recommends switching to Biology higher and taking English standard. Pablito then arrived, soon followed by Jonathon (primo from Hong Kong) and Salsabeel (prima, Bangladesh) and as the wall filled up, I ended up sitting there for over an hour just talking and basking in the sunlight like lizard.

We then had college life (as Mondays are different to every other day, as you have college organised stuff in the afternoons instead of service or creative or physical activities…) which was actually quite interesting. Simone, who led our group, stood in the middle of the circle and we all wrote on post it notes what we thought of him. Very brave. It also made us think more about how we judge people (luckily everyone was either kind, or not brave enough to put what they really thought). After this we had a slightly rushed tutorial, where we were finally joined by our secondi who are also supposed to be in the tutor group, Gilbert (Uganda) and Costanza (Italy). Although in fairness Gilbert was at least at the first tutorial when we had just arrived…

We had a shortened assembly as we were waiting for a talk after it from a visiting speaker (see below) although it was still quite a while as there are always so many notices from teachers and to a greater extent students. At least we had a seat this time, as we weren’t the last to arrive. The speaker was a fascinating man named Salvatore Cimmino, who lost one leg and who wants to help disabled people achieve equality and wants to change society’s perception of disabled people, and he does this by swimming enormously long distances. He had just finished a long swim in the bay that day before giving us the talk, and in the next few months he’s swimming round Manhattan Island, in places in New Zealand and Australia. Even though a secondo, Emilio, was translating, you could see the passion Salvatore had. Two things he said were: ‘Don’t pity me, enjoy life with me’ and ‘Give people the right love, time and space to express themselves’ and he really had an impact on the people who had decided to stay and listen (of which there were maybe about 90). After, there was a question and answer session, and then he was given a standing ovation, which was certainly very powerful, and as I saw tears in his eyes I actually felt myself almost crying too. Afterwards I went to say that I thought what he was doing was amazing and for the first time in my time in Italy I did that kiss on the cheek thing, and to which my British awkwardness I had to apologise for, ‘mi dispiace, sono inglese’. It sufficed.

The talk had precedent over the philosophy café and choir activities, two of which I might’ve gone to. At eight I then went to a meeting in Ples, which was all about something called ‘Street Performance’. Basically, it’s a unique to UWCAd, student-led initiative where they go to a place and do social service, as well as run activities and sessions to raise the profile of UWCAd. But the main aim is to help other people. In the meeting we discussed possible locations and talked about transport (eg should we fly? Cost of train with cheap flight etc) and also about accommodation (last year they went to Barcelona as one of the students’ – my third year – parents had contacts to get host families for everyone to stay with). It normally takes place on the first week of the four month Christmas break, but this year is on the last week. Although it sounds really interesting I don’t know whether I will go this year or I might wait until next year, just because it would mean missing a week of time with people back home… Regardless, I would absolutely LOVE to bring everyone to Newcastle, as I think it would be a great city to visit, as it’s cheap, the people are (in most cases) friendly and welcoming, and there are plenty of projects we could help with, even if just for one day. The problem would be the cost of getting to Newcastle and/or the time taken (on the train it would be two days and €250 and on the plane it would be less environmentally friendly and also would still require getting the train from London. I know there’s also the option of flying to Birmingham, but that would mean getting the CrossCountry train service. And if anything is the opposite to an ambassador for the good things of Britain, CrossCountry trains are certainly pretty high up on the list…). Also as Britain is not part of the Schengen agreement (basically where everyone in the EU can move between countries without having to show their passport, and in the case of most international students at UWCAd, they have a Schengen visa, which means they can go to any of the Schengen countries in the EU) people would have to get extra visas, and going by the ridiculous prejudice with which the Home Office makes its decisions on people visiting (for example something like 50% of appeals are accepted by judges, the initial rejections were decided by relatively untrained office workers in the Home Office, meaning that if 50% of the rejections by the first stage are incorrect decisions then something is wrong) there would doubtless be problems. Anyway, it would be great if I could work something out for next year…

I then read a really lovely letter from mum, which made me feel a little homesick reading about everything going on back at home but it was lovely to have a physical contact. I then finished watching the film, ‘The Pianist’, which is truly a brilliant film, and really makes you believe in the horrors of WWII. I then looked out at the sea again, something which is becoming a comforting habit, and was pleased by the calmness of the night. After this I spoke to Raza about his life in Mauritius and about his school. Josh then came in for a little chat, something which is becoming a nice little regular thing and we talked for a bit about South Africa and interestingly enough about how where even though he lives in quite a safe and pleasant place, he has still been mugged once or twice and so have his friends, and this is not abnormal. He also avoids going out at night. It makes you appreciate the relative safety of Britain (yes I know we have crime, but can you really imagine it happening in Gosforth, or for that matter anywhere in Newcastle? I know there are rough areas, but I don’t think anywhere is that bad…). I then helped Zaid for a bit with his English (he also finds it very difficult the difference between British English accents and American accents) and then with his EE friend. I have written his letters for his EE friend as partly he wants help to communicate everything, and partly because it makes me feel like I’ve got one too… So anyway we read the latest letter from the second year and started on the reply.

Tuesday 21^st September

On Tuesday I was not just woken up early, but woken up ridiculously early. Raza went to the toilet at about 5.50 and then decided to wake up…

In English we started looking at sonnets and the classical form, although my group analysed a more modern one – Acquainted with the Night – and then we were set the task of writing one for the next lesson. I also realised that the sound of the train when it goes past Duino is really loud – whilst I’d noticed it before I had always put in the back of my head…

In Biology we did another practical – this time I did manage to see loads of my cheek lining cells, and I got to measure them.

After lunch at half 2 we had a training session for all the people working in social services with disabled people. The woman leading it was a primary school teacher and she was mainly aiming to help us to know how to work with disabled people – but sometimes the communication barrier made it difficult for people to ask her questions, leading to frustration on the questioner’s behalf. We also looked at the idea of individuals and community, and how we are helping these particular individuals into a community. There was also a role play where she played a very convincing autistic person as Firas tried to engage with her. It made me realise I have a daunting challenge ahead, but a challenge that I’m sure I will eventually be able to pass. If I find it hard (as I’m sure I will) then it can only be good for me, I think, although at the end of the day the main thing is the service. At the end we played a really surreal sort of game where at first we just had to pass a feather to each other, and then after we had to pass it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. All this was done to classical music and at the end we just walked around passing feathers to each other, in silence ourselves but with classical music playing, while the woman blew bubbles into the air. All very fun, although I don’t know quite how much I gained from that particularly game…

At the end Esther, seconda from France, started playing on the piano, and I just thought it was amazing how some people can make such beautiful sounds from instruments, and made me wish I had learnt a musical instrument when I was young (or at least I wish I’d been forced into learning one, thanks mum and dad…) and then I went next door into the computer room to print off a crumpet recipe. I was looking for one as Clara, prima from Belgium, had been talking about crumpets with some of the other Francophones at lunch outside mensa on the balcony overlooking the sea, when I happened to lean out my bedroom window, and she saw me and so asked me to make some crumpets. I settled on the Delia smith recipe (http://www.deliaonline.com/recipes/type-of-dish/sweet/home-made-crumpets.html).

I asked Gabriele to come with me to Tuttidi (the little supermarket next to the school) so I could buy ingredients. Eventually after two extra return trips I had got everything. I didn’t have any of the utensils (no wooden spoon, no mixing bowl, no egg rings in which to fry the crumpets, although luckily we do have this thing instead of a scale where you put in the flour/sugar/milk into this tall glass beaker and it has units on the side) but it didn’t really matter. After mensa I carried on, as before dinner I had mixed everything together to leave it all for 45 minutes, as instructed by wor Delia. Clara and Nancy (prima, Singapore) arrived, so I began to cook, with the help of Clara, and Nancy taking photos. In the end I had to use a small pan about 13cm in diameter, and our adapted crumpet ended up being a bit like a pancake, as we dipped it in sugar. It was said diameter but about 3cm thick, and with butter melted and dipped in sugar it really was delicious. We shared it with various people such as Alex, secondo from Belgium, Hannah, Moritz, Davide, Sana, pretty much anyone I could find to taste a (adapted) British ‘delicacy’.

I then went to write my blog for a bit, and then realised I could get wifi in the room as a mac downstairs in the day room was broadcasting wifi, so after checking facebook I went on skype to see who was online, and low and behold was my good friend Matthew, so I spent a good wee while talking to him. The only problem was that the connection wasn’t fantastic, so occasionally we would cut out, but it meant that I got to show him my room and the view from the window. Both fortunately and unfortunately I had at least 9 facebook conversations on the go with people back home at the same time as this, so I had to cut our conversation short after about half an hour. We agreed to reconvene, and I have been getting other friends’ skype numbers for conversations in the near future, too. Gabriele was then able to Skype with his relatives (aunt, uncle and cousins) and Moritz came and joined us, too, as the wifi didn’t reach his room. He also went on skype and it was great that we were all able to have relatively private conversations, with no background noise. With Moritz the issue of people overhearing conversations doesn’t matter too much anyway, as when he showed me in a facebook conversation, the South Tyrolean dialect is extremely different to normal German. It’s like a cross between Italian and German, as it uses German words but goes for the Italian way of writing the sound of a word and pronouncing every letter (eg in English the word ‘please’ sounds like ‘pleeze’ but if the same word were written in Italian it would roughly be pronounced ‘pleh-ah-zeh’). This was a really nice relaxing time, and then at about quarter to eleven Patrick, the secondo from Canada, came in to our room as I had saved one batch of crumpet mixture (so enough for one) for him to have a try. He commented on our room being bare and showed us his, where they have lots of flags, posters and souvenirs, as well as photos on the wall. I have resolved to decorate more…

Anyway, we went downstairs where I cooked the final of about 4 crumpets that day. Although he was only able to get an eighth, like everyone else, I think he still appreciated it, as did Esther and Hannah, seconda from Malta (but her mum’s British so she knows crumpets well).

At midnight everyone went to the day room as it was Josh’s birthday, and Sana had managed to get people from all over (as in from all the other residences) to come too, breaking curfew in the process (which is apparently quite fun avoiding all the teachers walking their dogs). We all sang Happy Birthday at midnight, and Alli (seconda USA) and Esther even played the cello and violin to the tune. All in all a very nice evening, following an emerging tradition of going to people’s residences for their birthday. The only problem is being tired the next day…

As I was going to bed, having just done my teeth, I bumped into Francesco in the corridor where he asked me if I wanted to go to his house in Torino for the long weekend, which was a lovely idea and one I immediately accepted.

Wednesday 22^nd September

I woke up to a very windy Wednesday morning and hastily (as I didn’t have much time) sent Lydia an email about my flight home at the end of term as if I book on the 15^th December, one day before the end of term, it is only €17 excluding taxes (so add on another €25) whereas if I get the next flight available, the day after we finish lessons, on the 17^th, it’s €50 excluding taxes, so it’s a no-brainer really. Also, with Woodcraft Folk, the youth group I go to (or at least go to whne I am in England) we have our amazing ‘Not-Christmas Weekend’ on the 17th to the 19^th December so I don’t want to miss that.

After lessons, I bumped into Shannon, from East Timor, and he asked me if I wanted to go to Emisfero with him and Lindo (primo, Swaziland). I decided to forgo mensa food in favour of going to emisfero and buying some essentials, as well as getting lunch there. There I bought utensils such as a grater, peeler, whisk, and most importantly a mixing bowl. Actually even more importantly was the discovery, on my quest to find ingredients for biscuits, was weetabix, which rather comfortingly had the address ‘Weetabix, Burton Latimer, Kettering’ the town of my dad. After a pizza and Lindo had got a tennis racket, we got the bus back. I spoke with Lindo for a while about his life back in Swaziland and his education there. I checked my pigeonhole when we got back, where I found a note telling me to Luciana’s office to pick up a package. It turned out Sana had already picked it up when she picked up her (as it turned out huge, stuffed with delicious Indian food) packages, and it was waiting for me in my room. It was only my sleeping bag and camera but it was nice to receive them, and also the sleeping bag would be essential (or not quite as I could borrow one) for the Dolomites trip.

I then read Josh’s sonnet, which was really quite impressive, even though not finished. I then went to the library to write mine, and after two hours of thinking and searching I finally finished it, although it is by no means abstract, and it is very much based on our local heritage in the north east of England. In case you want to read it, here it is:

The North.

As the sun slowly falls below the clouds,

Goes with it a culture, a neighbourhood.

There is no society, she cried. But crowds

Will not be deterred. If only they could

Be allowed to work and to play and to

Live how they like. So tall they stand, yet how

Far they fall. Your blood is not red, it’s blue

She cried, as her many long arms struck down

And killed so many lives. Communities,

What are they now? And what of the accent?

A beautiful language, now deceased.

So is she now unable to relent?
As the sun rises, the people are kind

But never will they overlook her crimes.

I don’t think it’s particularly good, but at least I enjoyed writing it more than I ever could (and Lydia later said it was the first anti-thatcher sonnet she’s ever seen, soo at least I was breaking some new ground) some arty-farty thing about nature and/or the meaning of life. With all due respect I think sonnets are generally overrated.

On the way back to Fore I bumped into Emma (prima, France), who was on her way to the Mid-Autumn Chinese dinner at the Old Offices residence. It turned out that the food wasn’t until later so we decided to go down to Porto to look at the sunset, and I had just got my camera in the post, so wanted to photograph it. It really was beautiful. Down there we bumped into Anna (prima, Canada), and we stayed there chatting for a good half an hour to an hour.

When we got back to Fore day room, there was an unusual amount of activity that for once did not involve people sitting on computers. Gabriel, my British secondo, was there, so I went and saw what was going on. It turned out that Alli (seconda, USA and sort of Canada) had brought her aunt and uncle for a quick visit, and they had made a rather tasty Canadian pie, consisting to some extent of raisins, as well as other sweet stuff.

Anyway, in the end I sat there for a good hour, as I sat there talking with everyone (for the record I think it was Theis, Job, Esther, Hannah and one other person). In particular I spent a long time talking with Gabriel and Hannah, who’s actually half British (but also very Maltese), about British stuff and a lot about British TV and comedy. Currently on my list of DVDs are:

-Fawlty Towers

-Vicar of Dibley

-Little Britain before it went bad

-Monty Python and the Holy Grail

-The Thick of It series two and three

-Father Ted

-Blackadder

-Yes (Prime) Minister

We shall have a British comedy evening sometime. Gabriel also informed me of the plan to have a ‘Commonwealth Dinner’. Basically at the college different groups get together, e.g. Francophone, Arabic speakers, Latini, North Americans, Italians etc maybe once every year for a meal. Since there are only two of us (or three if you include Hannah, as culturally she is pretty English), and the Commonwealth is so much bigger, it hopefully means we will have a nice evening, as well as sample some nice food!

All in all it was a lovely time chatting with really friendly people, and I felt really happy to be at UWCAd at this time.

After I wandered to Old Offices, where the Mid-Autumn dinner had not even started, but I was really pleased that I had not missed it. Raymond cooked a delicious noodle egg thing which we all helped ourselves to from a big bowl, nice and hygienically. We were joined by many of the Asian students, as well as quite a few others, like Gabriel and Petra and I felt fully stuffed afterwards. Raymond also let me borrow a Chinese lamp, which I have now hung up on my ceiling.

I came back to the room and decorated a bit, following the inspiration from Patrick’s room the night before. I have now properly put up my black and white striped Newcastle tea towel, as well as another tea towel displaying nice pictures of Newcastle and Gateshead. I have also hung up a Union Jack, but intend to buy a non-polyester one. Also, I’d like to buy a Northumbria one, as well as an Italian ‘peace’ flag. Pace is so much cooler, I think. I also now have plenty of post-it notes with reminders on, as well as my timetable.

Lorenzo (primo, Italia) came and sat in the room for a bit and with Raza the four of us just chatted for a while. I also looked through my photos on the computer, as I am going to go to one of those machines where you can print out photos in Emisfero.

To top a really nice evening off (especially a nice evening as I had felt really bad during the day, probably due to lack of breakfast – although in my defence the bread is now horrible as the baker is on holiday and the cereal is rubbish), Newcastle beat Chelsea 4-3.

Actually, to further top off a nice evening, I got an email from dad telling me that my French GCSE remark had awarded me an A*, when before I had an A.

Thursday 23^rd September

After both history and biology for my free block I came back to the day room to christen my weetabix. How glad I was to firstly eat something (no breakfast makes you tired, this much I know. I am fairly sure that of the approximately two people who fall asleep in any of my lessons each day they will not have had breakfast. I would also like to point out that I have not ever been one of those people. Fortunately).

After this I felt like taking out the recycling so went to the recycling bins, laden with our huge amounts of waste from Fore, and put them in the bins. I went the back to fore the way I always do, going through the administration building to check my post-box. Outside I saw a man looking at the UWC mission statement on the plaque by the door. As I was about to go in I said something like ‘are you ok?’ or words to that effect and then he went on to explain how he is a university lecturer visiting the area (he sounded German) so I explained a bit about the college, the age, the intake, the UWC international movement, our UWC specifically compared to the others, etc and then I got a leaflet for him and his friend. It seems that every time I do the recycling something interesting happens.

I then went back to the room to find people finally fixing our ridiculously squeaky door that had been plaguing Gabriele and I’s mornings (to a lesser extent Zaid, but he is a deeper sleeper, and obviously not Raza, as he is the one who makes all the noise with the door in the mornings…).

I then went to print off my sonnet, finding there was no paper, so I printed it off on a page torn from my exercise book. It gave it effect. In English we were looking at contemporary sonnets and the one Nicola (boy, it’s an Italian name) had was XV by Ted Berrigan and was actually really cool, as we only realised right at the end that the poem only made sense if, well actually you read it and then work it out. I’ll tell you in a few days time…

At mensa I spoke to Tim about a meeting so we decided on Monday after school for him to help with my maths. I then ended up speaking to Nancy, prima Singapore, for about an hour about meritocracy (the idea that people are rewarded based on their ability) in Singapore, the schools system there, the poverty gap in both our countries (Apparently it is also increasing rapidly in Singapore) and the two different ideas of welfare, and also about the problems we have in the UK with racism.

I then managed to pack in about twenty minutes for the upcoming trip to the famous Dolomites that all the people in the climbing activity were doing. I got my stuff checked out, got a list of further items to get, and went to look for them. Once I had packed and also put the washing on I managed to watch Newcastle’s goals on some Greek website of the win against Chelsea. Quite a good game.

I then took the stuff to be loaded into the minibuses, and then at 7 my tutorial group met at Lydia’s house for our tutorial dinner. Normally you have tutorial dinner once a month on a Tuesday but this last Tuesday we were going to go to an ozmizza, a very local tradition where the small vineyards open for about two or three weeks a year, giving wine, cheese, meat, bread and other home produced produce. This article shows about it more and incidentally was written by the wife of one of our teachers, apparently: http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2010/may/01/italy-food-festival-osmica-carso link. On our first Friday the whole school went to an ozmizza, but this time there were none open as they were all preparing for a festival, which happened to be taking place on our upcoming long weekend, on the 2^nd and 3^rd October. So we decided to go for a pizza on Thursday instead.

At first it was really weird as there was a strange man in the house, as well as everyone else. It turned out to be Simone, the really nice teacher who coordinates the social services, but he had shaved off his long hair. Anyway, we walked to da Ciro, the pizzeria, where all of us had an enjoyable evening chatting and also learning more about each other, as well as the gossip about the school from Lydia and Gilbert (Uganda) and Costanza (Itlay), the second years.

As we walked back we passed the residence, Ples, and I remembered there was a meeting about the 350 degrees campaign (http://www.350.org/), about how the school can raise awareness, of its aim to limit the amount of CO2 in the atmosphere to 350 parts per million. I have learnt at the college that it is a lot better if even if you are late people are still pleased, in any of the many meetings we have, to see you.

Finding rare time to relax in the evening, I spoke to Moritz for a bit before doing a final recycling, where I bumped into Gabriele, which although is more normal than seeing a German lecturer and explain about UWC, or as happened about a week ago, when I bumped into Francesco and we ended up playing cards with people for about 2 hours, it still carried on the fortune of the recycling. Or something….

Oh yeah and in case you are interested here is a link to the college’s world arts and cultures programme/booklet, which follows the fascinating course that they teach here (almost unique), a fascinating course which incidentally I am not doing… anyway:

http://www.uwcad.it/pdf/WAC_brochure_FINAL.pdf

Photos:

Trieste's main square on Saturday the 18th (I forgot to include it in the last blog) with the wedding ceremony in the storm.

The ice cream place where we took shelter

A delicious mixture: lampone e crema

My bed (actually slightly different now, will show an updated pic)

The view from our window of the castle at night

Porto in the sunset