Lessons in Rome, statues in Florence and a tower in Pisa

21/5 - A warm, humid thunderstorm battered the city of Rome during the evening of my birthday and morning of the next day. Bolts of lightning bathed the neighborhoods with light during the night and momentarily electrified daytime gray skies.

As I stood inside the Pantheon during this storm, taking shelter from the heavy downpour of rain, lightning struck the sky above and was swiftly followed by the boom of thunder. But this time, the thunder was amplified by the oculus in the dome of the Pantheon, resulting in a thrilling and electrifying roar, like how the sound of a dragster ripping along at 300 mph seems to vibrate in your very chest.

The roar of thunder made me giggle out loud among the large crowd of people, and it was a special moment because not often does one get to experience a strong thunderstorm inside the Pantheon in Rome. It was meant to be that way. I will remember that roar for a long time.

I've come to Italy with Diego for a week to visit Rome and Florence. It has been one of my favorite adventures already since I came back to Europe, because I've had the fortune of seeing so many world-famous works of art and my newfound understanding of how to control my emotions.

Thanks to my revelation at The Louvre with Diego, the spectacles of Rome and Florence and the crowds that come with them have not produced stress. The only thing I've felt has been goosebumps, either from sheer size or exhibitions of virtuoso artistry. It has been surreal to see ancient, massive, stone structures built almost 2,000 years ago.

Rome is known as the city to which all roads lead. I had never visited a city with such an ancient feeling, and I'd gladly go again. This area is also the headquarters of Christianity because Pope Francis lives in nearby Vatican City (within the city limits of Rome), and one can see nuns and priests taking a stroll at all hours of the day. 

The Collosseum. The Pantheon. Trevi Fountain. Vatican City. St. Peter's Basilica. The Statue of David. Sistine Chapel. Michelangelo. Rafael. So much art! So much size! History! Culture!

It's cultural overload. Italy, the destination of artists' dreams, has been a blast to the senses because things become mashed together. Modern technology fuses with ancient ruins. Languages blend together.

Since I can understand Italian a little bit when spoken, I have been thinking in Spanish. But French is still in the mix because I respond with French words or pronounce Italian words with a French accent. And on one occasion, while enjoying a beer during the thunderstorm, the German word for Sunday came out of my mouth.

The city of Rome itself feels old in every way, as if some parts could do with an upgrade. Trash gets separated from bins, metro trains are completely tagged with graffiti and street signs are difficult to find and read because they're the color of marble, which blends in with buildings. You can find marble statues everywhere, all in a different state of wear. A lot can happen in 2,000 years to a piece of marble.

But the fact you can find ancient ruins in the center of town and actually touch them is a thrill. The Collosseum is one example, as the colossal structure, made up of thin bricks painstakingly placed on top of each other, made my fingers tingle when I touched the 2,000-year-old walls. It was at one time decorated with marble, an elegant behemoth of a stadium that boggles the mind because you have to wonder how something like that was constructed so long ago.

This has also been a trip that featured severe spontaneity, as we spent lunch in Pisa after taking a quick train from Florence. Seeing the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person was fun because it's another one of those landmarks we've always seen in books or on television throughout our lives. Diego and I lounged in the shade with our heads on our bags as we examined the tower. I also enjoyed watching many other people get their version of a holding-up-the-tower picture. 

I had never been to a.place quite like the Sistine Chapel in Vatican City (yet another country). With each wall and ceiling panel entirely covered by the work of Michelangelo, something that took 10 years to complete, the room is a swirl of color and biblical references. At all times there are hundreds of tourists inside the chapel, craning their necks upwards to examine the pieces on the ceiling, including The Creation of Mankind. And at all times they're under the stern eyes of Vatican security who sometimes sharply command, "silencio" into a loudspeaker and remind everyone that no photos are allowed.

Like the Mona Lisa, The Creation of Mankind is another painting that seemed smaller than in my imagination. It's just one of many scenes on the ceiling, but it's in the center. The crack that appears near the two sets if fingertips made me wonder if it was intentional or just a result of age.

Michelangelo's Statue of David in Florence was surreal because it's a perfect representation of the human body, with each vein and muscle clearly and cleanly set, but I can't fathom how someone can reach that kind of perfection with marble.. It was as if an actual human were standing on the plinth instead of stone. I have never seen a statue that detailed before.

We spent a few days in Florence, sampling gelato, eating our fill of pasta and pizza and seeing Leonardo da Vinci paintings at the Uffizi Gallery. Though the center of Florence feels uncomfortably touristy, there's still so much history there to be enjoyed and many statues to examine throughout the maze of city streets. 

We also had the opportunity to attend mass at the Duomo of Florence, the city's massive cathedral. The service was in Italian, and though I understood words here and there, the program also offered translations in English, Spanish and French.

And though Florence feels too touristy, it still offers the chance to see a beautiful sunset along the Arno River. I took close to 100 pictures while standing on this bridge in the evening, surrounded by tourists with similar accents to mine. It was a wonderful moment, though, because I was able to witness something gorgeous in the capital of Tuscany.

25/5 - The journey back from Rome has been a long and frustrating one. Some of the issues along the way have been self inflicted, like not paying attention to whether a hostel only takes cash, to having to endure horrendous traffic, thus making me late for a connecting train.

I feel those surges of annoyance, but the key for me is to actually focus on my breath. That reels me in and brings me back to right now.

But, this is travel, and frustration is part of the adventure. The need for cool, critical thinking in the moment is vital, otherwise I'd be lost and shouting at someone out of anger.

Italy was an excellent adventure and though I saw some amazing stuff, the most important thing I took from the trip.was about myself. I learned how to be a part of a team. Though I may be carrying my own weight, the other person in your group may need help with theirs so it's my duty to assist.

During my final days in Porterville, I saw how my upbringing as an only child may have prevented me from learning this earlier on in life. As an only child, I only had to think about myself. I never had to share anything. I never had to split a burden with others. I saw how this was a possible reason why I'm not the vest roommate.

While in Italy, I saw that for the success of the two of us to be possible, I had to set aside my own ego and pride for having packed light, and help Diego carry his ever-expanding bags. Since this was his first time in Europe, the souvenirs he bought slowly fattened his bags, eventually making them painful to carry for one person.

But for the first time during either of my stints in Europe, I'm feeling slightly homesick. I'm done traveling for now. My time here is up. Like I said several months ago, I was like crepe batter cooking on the hot plate at the bakery in Cherbourg. I've fully formed now and ready to serve another purpose.

Jim Morrison, mastering emotions and a familiar museum in Paris

14/5 - We hear all the time advice about keeping our emotions in check. Mastering them. Until recently, I had never truly understood this concept or how to accomplish it.

Diego and I visited The Louvre art museum in Paris this weekend. It's world famous for obvious reasons, because the Mona Lisa is there. This was my third time visiting, and I enjoyed it much more than the other two because I finally understood this concept; It was a breakthrough of sorts.

I hated my two previous experiences inside the Louvre because I let outside influences bother me. The sheer numbers of people, the camera phones, the jostling, the stressful environment of fighting crowds of people to see artistic masterpieces overwhelmed me in the past. It was sensory overload.

My idea of an art museum is a quiet, calm place where one can contemplate the piece on the wall. It should be a place where anxieties vanish. The Louvre is not this place. It's fast-paced, like the city of Paris itself. But then again, there is nothing typical about The Louvre.

This time, however, I controlled my own emotions and how much outside factors got to me inside the museum. I reminded myself that I can't control how many people are there or what they do. I caught myself getting stressed a few times, because I personally don't understand the point of taking a picture of a painting when you can Google it and get a better image. But I digress.

Diego and I strolled at our own pace, looking at the art. I took a few deep breaths and muted those around me; I began to feel separate from them. The large groups of tourists all craning their necks and stretching their cameras in the air at an attempt to get a picture became simply another feature of the museum.

This left me with yet another opportunity to study the Mona Lisa from about 20 feet away, behind and right to the rock-concert-like mosh pit of people. I noticed she had no eyebrows. The background of the painting was blurry. Her wrists looked swollen. The size of the painting was larger than I had remembered it, but still entirely unremarkable to me.

This experience helped me contemplate the concept of being in control of emotions, rather than vice versa.

As humans we're going to succumb to fits of anger, annoyance, rage, sadness, indifference, joy, ecstasy and so on. We should recognize those emotions and let them flow. What we should not do is allow them to influence decisions. We should wait until those emotions burn out so we can make a decision during a more stable, logical mindset.

I learned inside The Louvre that my annoyance, anxiety and anger shouldn't prevent me from enjoying the museum. I shouldn't let them form my opinion of the gallery. During my two previous visits, those negative emotions dictated my experience and opinion.

17/5 - This is a story of one of my most unique travel experiences, and it involves a graveyard.

Before taking flight later in the day, Diego and I visited Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. There are many famous names buried here, including the playwrite Oscar Wilde. But my biggest draw was Jim Morrison, the lead singer of The Doors, who died in 1971 in Paris after being found dead in his bathtub in his 4th District apartment. My favorite song from this band is Riders on the Storm.

This cemetery is centuries old, and there are many large gravestones and memorials crowding one another, among small dirt trails between them. It's quite a big place, and finding particular graves can be difficult as was Morrison's.

Diego and I walked along the cobblestone pathway, which curved to the left and uphill. Clutching a map of the cemetery, we turned our heads this way and that in the general area along with two other women also looking for the same grave. Not until a man pointed it out to us did we find it.

Morrison's grave is tucked behind several other larger memorials and is easy to miss, but the many gifts of colorful flowers gives it away. Diego and I found a metal fence in front of the grave, to keep people from getting too close. We jumped over it while several other people watched (and one commented on my legitimate camera).

Diego asked me if I had anything to say to Mr. Morrison. After a pause I said, "Jim Morrison, Rider on the Storm, we salute you."

I've been listening to The Doors a lot ever since then, and the band seems much more real and closer to me than before.