Sunday I took a group trip into Cinque Terre, the five towns that hug the northwest coast of Italy. It was beautiful, but exhausting. I find it interesting that some of the most beautiful locations in the world are mostly beautiful because of the buildings.

I wish I had more to write about the history or culture of Cinque Terre, but the tour guide we paid for wasn't much of a guide. He led us on the path and got us onto the ferry, but didn't tell us anything about the area. The 38 Euro we all paid for the day trip seemed not to be worth it, but we did get a free 3 hour train ride both ways and entrance to the National Park.

Yesterday morning I dropped my perfume onto the marble floor; it shattered and bits of broken glass and Clinque perfume went everywhere. Rosanna simply got a broom and a cloth and started cleaning up after me. Then I got on the bus packed like a sardine can, and had nowhere to hold onto (which, if you've ever taken public transportation in Italy, you know is essential) so I wrapped my hand around a bar next to the door. When we stopped at the next stop, the door tried to open but couldn't because my hand was in the way! The person waiting outside had to go to another door while I cursed out loud and tried to pull my hand out. The rest of the day went pretty much like that.

The days are getting long for me. I'm not exactly homesick; I don't want to go home yet. But I find I have to force myself to go out at night and explore the city, or make plans to travel on the weekend. I always enjoy myself when I do, but it is something I have to push myself into doing. Next weekend I'm going to Sorrento and Capri with a few girls from Ursinus, and I'm actually looking forward to that. When we first got here I thought I'd be able to beat the usual symptoms of culture shock. Although I am doing better than the textbook definition of culture shock, I'm still not symptom-less. I'm confident that by the end of the three months I'll be telling a different story.