How I Almost Got to be Rapunzel and Almost Met a Tragic End

Well, not really, but I had to get you interested in this post somehow, didn't I?
Let me explain how I came about to almost make those claims.
One of my roommates, Anne, is a genius on all things Florence.  When it comes to knowing what's going on, how to pronounce any Italian word, and basic history of the city or any famous structure, I go to Anne.  She just knows.  So when Anne mentions something, really anything, about Florence, I tend to listen.
A few days ago she mentions a festival called Rificolona and she has my attention almost immediately.  With a little further investigation, I learn that this is a festival in honor of the birthday of the Virgin Mary.  A pilgrimage is made from a church on one side of the river to the Church of the Annunciation.  Once there, a speech is given by city officials and a cardinal and the crowd can enjoy goodies that vendors offer at the Piazza.  But here's the fun part- what makes the pilgrimage so cool are all the lanterns.  People carry lanterns throughout the procession and you feel like you've been sucked into the movie, Tangled.  Upon discovering the use of lanterns during the procession, Anne and I are beside ourselves with glee and know, without a doubt, that we will be present for this event.
Let me provide a little bit of background about the traditions of the pilgrimage.  Mary's birthday is celebrated every year on the 8th of September.  Because the basilica here is dedicated to her, these celebrations are a pretty big deal.  Pilgrims and farmers from the surrounding community would make the journey into the city for the celebrations.  Given the distance though, they had to begin their journeys very early in the morning and carried lanterns with them to guide their way.  While the long journey has all but vanished, the lanterns have not.
So, Friday afternoon, after exploring with Brittany and looking for some gardens that I've failed to find multiple times now, we made our way to the church of Santa Felicita to begin the procession, and in all ways, Italian, they weren't ready to begin.  We met up with Anne and enjoyed 30 minutes of music provided by a local philharmonic group and watched as more lanterns filled the Piazza.  We purchased a few for ourselves but guarded them from the second tradition of the festival.  It is the younger children who are typically given the lanterns to hold and the older children get something altogether different.  The older children are given blowguns.  Yep, blowguns.  I kid you not.  Here's the history for this little gem of a tradition.  As the farmers and pilgrims made their way into the city, they took special care to look extra nice for the occasion.  The city dwellers, however, thought this was a little too much and essentially made fun of them for it.  The children would make their own lanterns with brighter colors and finer paper and some would blow spit wads at the pilgrims' and farmers' lanterns in hopes of knocking the candle inside over and lighting them on fire.  Luckily, the use of spit wads has died away, but wax balls have taken their place and the blowguns are still very much a part of the festival.  You are almost guaranteed to take a few to the back of the head before the night is over.

We were finally joined by more pilgrims who had begun their pilgrimage at the Piazza Michelangelo.  With them was the cardinal who would lead us through the city.  A few songs that I wish I could understand from the pilgrims and then we began!  It's the most I've felt at home in Florence since I've been here.  I loved the feel of community and honoring Mama Mary.  The sights of the city and the lanterns at night are something that I will always remember.  I loved learning about the traditions and being with Brittany and Anne.  Just a solid night across the board.

And now I'm sure you're begging to hear how I almost met my tragic end, but not really.
Saturday, FUA (Florence University of the Arts), the university I'm studying at here, offered an opportunity to go to the Viareggio beach for the afternoon and I thought nothing sounded better than relaxing on the Mediterranean.  So my roommate Abby and I pulled ourselves out of bed nice and early and met up with the FUA group at the train station.  We were shuttled onto a train and had an hour and a half to dream of the seaside.  Once there, we were told that we were going to a private beach.  It's not often that you get to experience life on a private beach, so we made the trek and got settled.  We established camp at the many umbrellas provided for us and enjoyed a relatively uncrowded atmosphere.

Our little private beach was the definition of mountains, sea, and sky.  The mountains lined the coast, the water was clear that faded to the sea foam green you only read about in books and then a brilliant blue that finds it's way onto every child's coloring sheet and the sky didn't host a single cloud.  The water was a little bit chiller than expected and the day a little bit cooler than one would like, but we finally sucked it up and ventured in.  We had only been in the water a few minutes when the two advisers on the trip with us caught our attention.  They had found a jellyfish.  We swam over to look and this guy was quite a bit bigger than you would like to see while swimming in murky water, but he was still beautiful.  There really is something quite mesmerizing about jellyfish.  I thought that this was going to be something rare in my life, much less in the day, so I took it in and went about my swimming.

I was finally getting comfortable in the water and started to head out deeper to enjoy the waves.  The water was surprisingly calm and I just started making my merry way out to sea.  And that's when it happened.  The moment I almost died.  Abby was behind me, not so eager to swim out that far and she yelled, "Sam!  Jellyfish!"  I didn't even know what to do at that point.  I shrieked, spun on the spot, and tried to see my would-be assailant.  Apparently I had swam right over the little bugger and lived to tell about it.  The jellyfish had miraculously disappeared and we didn't waste any time getting back to shore.  Needless to say, we spent and hour or so out and away from the water.  Ironically enough, I was more in danger from the sun than I was the jellyfish, and of the two, the sun definitely inflicted more harm.  We finally recovered and explored the beach and found many more jellyfish that had washed up to shore.  I was even brave enough to touch one though I probably looked like a five year old in the process.  Lots of reaching out and then quickly jerking back before I actually touched and when I finally did touch it, a squeal was present, followed by a quick jump away.  Jellyfish are much more solid than they look, surprisingly enough.
Once we had conquered our fears of the jellyfish, we headed back in and enjoyed our afternoon at the beach.  Sure, we had to battle a few more jellyfish attacks, but we were old pros by that point.  It's just simply not a day at the beach until you look death in the face and laugh.  Ok, ok, so it's not that dramatic, but let me have my fun!  I'm Italy after all, and anything can happen.  : )

Me and Abby, my jellyfish busting partner in crime.
Wishing you a sunny day, a cool breeze, and immeasurable blessings,
Sam