sweat. replenish fluids. repeat.

today started with a lovely intro to the site and museum by the director of the excavation/our professor; Tony. His stories are delightful, not necessarily particularly on topic but very informative and interesting. We sat in the store room as Tony just kept reaching into drawers pulling out past finds and talking about them. It was amazing the volume of cool artifacts that were just at a hands reach. and that room only houses the finds which are almost ready to go to the museum!

We then had a nice little tour of the Poggio Civitate museum before lunch. We didn't have a lot of time to look around, but I'm sure I'll spend lots of time there this summer - the members of the excavation are always welcome (a nice perk!)

After lunch we had our first trek up to the site on the hill.

I need to work out more.

It is a 40 minute walk uphill through the woods in 30 degree heat (the senior members of the team insist that we'll be able to do it in 20 minutes once we get used to it but I'm skeptical).

Thankfully, most days we'll be walking up there at 6:30 am (rather than today's 1pm) so it won't be so hot which is nice.

Once up on the hill we were given a mini tour of the past excavation and they showed us where we were going to be digging this summer. thankfully there is some breeze that comes in, but it is going to be a hot, hot summer.

It is difficult to drink more water than I sweat out!

I'm assigned to the Magazzino tomorrow which means I won't be digging but working in the lab, I'm pretty excited about that kind of work because conservation is something that really interests me, but I am a little disappointed that I'm going to be missing the first day of excavation with everyone. I'm going to have to wait a little longer to break out my pink trowel!

another less than delightful thing about being on mag duty tomorrow is that I have to get up to help with breakfast.

at 5am. eww

but really can I complain when I live here?

Salvio Condelli

So, Salvio

I believe he is worth a mention, being the only ray of sunshine in my otherwise terrible ordeal getting to Vescovado.

I first met him at the train station Chiusi while I was trying to figure out where to go to catch my train to Siena. An old man came up to me and asked in broken English if I was going to Siena, saying yes, we both walked to the train station to check the boards to see which platform to wait at. He was very reassuring about what to do although he didn’t seem like he altogether knew.

After we found that platform 2 was where the last train to Siena left I decided to go straight there (not taking any chances thank you very much!) but he went to the little café at the train station.

The train came before he returned so I went to sit on it alone. When he arrived he had candy in had and was just generally adorable. He sat down across from me and started asking why I’m heading to Siena, it was hard to explain but he did get that I was an archaeology student in Canada.

The man is so charming, he speaks slowly with a thick accent but or conversation seems to be somewhat understood on both sides. I adore his tortoise shell panto glasses and then he exclaims Mama Mia! When searching for his cell phone and I fall in love.

I find out that he is art history professor in Siena but lives in Napoli. He begins to talk to me about the significant sites in Italy. He speaks about how the Romans evolved from the Greeks, he even draws me a map! So I pull out my copy of the Aeneid to show I know what he is talking about. He is pleased and looks through it, he writes places I need to go on the map of Italy in the Book and discusses the places in the glossary – even writing in notes and amendments.

He spoke of so many places that it is necessary for me to go and he was devastated to hear that I would be in Siena for 6 weeks because it is a medieval city and not as interesting, he said I should spend 2 days in Siena then go elsewhere. I could tell by the way he described the places that he really loved his country. It was lovely.

We talked for at least an hour and he told me I should spend 2 years in Italy. He gave me his address and asked me to send him a post card from Canada.

He then added his email and cell number just in case.

My first Italian friend!

Here's the map he drew for me:

collect calls.

Worst day ever.

Screw you Travelocity.

After arriving in London all was well despite the popped ears and nausea still lingering from this illness from hell.

And the Heathrow happened.

I fumbled around a bit after getting through customs then asked where the central bus terminal was and got back on track – long trot there – I practically jogged along the conveyor belts.

Then when I arrived I was all disoriented and could only hear out of one ear. I asked a guy for help who told me to go to stand 15 to wait for my coach. So I did I also asked a woman for help and she told me that the bus I was scheduled on was terminating there so that they could put me on the 7:35 bus. I apparently got confused, I asked one bus driver about it and he said just wait for the 7:40 bus and anyway I never saw a 7:35 bus to Gatwick.

I started to get worried at 7:45 and asked another woman who then got on the radio and told me what I had failed to realize before – the bus wasn’t coming.

Freaking out a little I asked her what to do, she, rather brusquely told me there was nothing that she could do for me. That there was no way to get me to Gatwick for my 9:45 flight she just lectured me about how I should have allowed more time between flights – well fuck you very much ma’am! I asked about a cab or (taxi) apparently there is a difference in England? She just said it would be expensive great I figured since it was an 1.25 hr ride

I figured I’d try and make it anyway since it would cost me more than the cab ride to book another flight

I fairly ran back through the airport frantically searching for a ATM because I didn’t know whether or not cabs took Visa. I withdrew 300£ to make sure I’d have enough money, (please note I hadn’t told my bank I was travelling)

After finding a ATM and cramming my wad of cash into my wallet I ran outside with my luggage to find a cab, I asked some women first who tried to tell me it would be better to get a train and then bus, but that sounded all too terrifying so I just ran for the cab stop.

Good god I get bad cotton mouth when I’m scared

(the last time my mouth was that dry was my first university seminar presentation – which thankfully ended a lot better!)

I found a cab who would take me to Gatwick but he was rather slight on the details as to whether I would be in time or not.

I basically silently cried and hoped in the backseat the entire time

With a cab fare of 136.00£ I arrived at the airport’s south terminal at 9:17am, still hoping I ran up the ramp and scanned the boards to see where I checked in. it said Area E – Open

Delighted I ran to find where to check in but Alas, my hopes were dashed as I inquired and the lovely man said – 9:45? Well that closed ½ an hour ago didn’t it? I asked if there was anything I could do and he said “no closed, there isn’t anything else to say about it is there”

Boy do I love London

So in tears, I walked around wondering what to do then asked and was told to go to the flight help desk

A woman told me what my flight options were and I decided it was about time to call home

I just wanted to hear familiar voices

I used my visa to make a call home and dad’s voice was the best sound ever. I had to go back and forth to make a flight reservation that would get me to Italy.

Then once I did find a flight, my visa didn’t work much to my dismay, (but not my surprise)

But miraculously the woman at the desk got it to manually authorize.

Then she told me to run to check in as the flight was closing which I did and so made it to Rome by 4pm

Once in Rome I had to call dad again because I forgot to print off the travel instructions on how to get to Vescovado.

When I had those in hand off I was to get the train to downtown Rome

Getting the train is nervewracking when you’re not sure when your stop is coming up!

In The Termini train station I lined up to get a ticket because I couldn’t figure out the automatic ticket machines (I am just SO good at being self sufficient!)

But I got my ticket and then went to find my train. To do this you just have to look at the boards that have the train number and the destination and the departure time followed by the number of the track/station the train

Mine says 1PE

What the hell is PE

So I went to the first track and looked at the train it didn’t seem to be the right one so I asked the driver. He didn’t speak much English but said YES. GO. so I stood around with some people waiting to board but asked someone else to be sure and he said no it was the wrong train. A whole 6 minutes before I’m scheduled to leave Rome

Crap.

So I ran to information and had to wait for 3 people to ask their questions and I’m trying to articulate that I need to know where 1PE is. Thankfully I am understood and he points to my train and there it is - past the ends of all the other trains just barely visible

And it leaves in 2 minutes.

So I run

Dragging a 30 pound suitcase

I nearly puked I was so exhausted, but I made it

The ride to Siena was mostly uneventful, switching trains in Chiusi was kind of stressful, but I managed to catch the last one with the help of a charming old man named Salvio Condelli. I’ll write more about him later.

After arriving at Siena I took a 20 minute cab to Vescovado and arrived at 11:30pm - the last person to arrive on the dig.

I promptly found my room and collapsed into bed.

.. I still need to call visa

think pink

I decided today was the day I would buy my tools for the dig. It proved to be rather more of an adventure than expected.

The three main items required are; a trowel, a hand pick and a pair of garden clippers. I assumed that, hand picks and clippers being fairly common items, I could buy those two from Canadian Tire conveniently located a short distance from my house. I learned from the MUNArch facebook group that I could buy the highly recommended Marshalltown trowel at Creative Brick and Tile on O’Leary Ave. (a much greater distance away) Determined to make my purchase, I planned to take the bus to the mall and then trek from there.

So, with a handful of Mini Rolos for breakfast I was ready to go.

First, I made my trip to Canadian Tire. There I found a vast array of clippers. This caused me some dismay because I know little to nothing about what makes a good pair. Surrounded by middle aged men who confidently tested the heft and quality of particular tools, I awkwardly circled the store waiting for inspiration. (hand picks were nowhere to be seen) in my wanderings I did manage to find several pairs of work gloves – clearly my expertise in the garment department surpasses mine in gardening tools. Then, as I was about to select one of the garish orange and black pairs of clippers at random, - a revelation! From underneath a pile of cold stainless steel blades and black rubber grips appeared something I could connect with – florals! In a set of other gardening tools I couldn’t care less about there was perfect set of clippers for me. A plain metal pair whose handle was adorably patterned with pink flowers. I don’t know if their quality is outstanding, but I can tell you they are quite aesthetically pleasing.

Immensely pleased with my purchase I returned home to drop it off before catching the bus to the mall.

By the time I made it to the mall it had begin raining. Not to be discouraged from my quest I decided I would continue despite the inclement weather. Upon finding Creative Bick and Tile I went in and asked about trowels only to be told they no longer had pointing trowels, only margin trowels – the horror!

Still determined I decided that I would make the trek to Kelsey drive in hopes that Home Depot would have the trowel I desired.

The walk was longer than I expected. I arrived at Home Depot looking like a drowned rat.

Again, feeling lost in a hardware store, I wandered hopefully searching for trowels and picks (I’m not the type to ask for help). Tragically, I found Home Depot only offered the same margin trowel that Creative Brick and Tile did. And the only hand pick I could find was terrifyingly large and the prospect of actually fitting it into my luggage was comical as well as probably not the best idea if I wanted my suitcase to actually be let on a plane!

I did pick up a can of bright pink spray paint though looking forward to that time when I actually did find a trowel so I could personalise it and make it match my delightful clippers.

Disappointed, yet still hopeful I decided to begin the walk home. Then, halfway down Kenmount road I noticed a small store called Ornamental Concrete Ltd… And, lo and behold, on their small display of tools was a box of Marshalltown 45’5 pointing trowels .

Cue victory dance! (In reality it was more of a victory wiggle since I’m not sure the two old men selling concrete and paving supplies would have been receptive to my exuberance). Then, with a grin on my face and bounce in my step I returned home and promptly collapsed in exhaustion.

Later, I began the task of sanding and painting my purchase and I think it’s pretty darling don’t you?

Now, to find a hand pick...

well can you?

I've started this blog to chronicle what I hope to be will be the best yet adventure of my young -and mostly unadventurous life.

On June 27th I'm leaving Canada for the first time on my own, to spend what I expect to be a magical six weeks in Vescovado di Murlo, Italy as a part of the Poggio Civitate Archaeological Project 2010 Field Season. I think it will not only be an amazing learning experience but also a much needed change of pace from life at home (and the six day work weeks I've done to fund my adventure!)

I've always had a interest in history and since I started university I've held a growing passion for Classical Studies. Finding a place on this dig is a dream come true and the fact that, in spending my summer studying Etruscan culture first hand, I will get credit for two courses in my Archaeology degree program is a rather delightful cherry on top!

A pretty cool thing about this particular dig is that it has been going on since the 70s and it was actually the first dig that one of my favorite professors participated in! I didn't actually know she had worked there until I asked her for a letter of reference, I had done some research on various field opportunities and Poggio Civitate came out on the top of my list of schools - though my professor's glowing review of her summer at Murlo did much to fire my excitement for the dig

I often have the best of intentions when starting journals at critical points in my life and yet never manage to capture my life with any continuing consistency. My addiction to the internet, however, has been a staple in my life for many years now which leads me to believe that a blog is likely my best chance to gather my thoughts and experiences as I think and experience them.

as a final note: the inspiration for the rather pun-y nature of my blog url is this pin my mother bought for me as a child which I wear with pride (as can be seen by its various scuffs and scrapes). So far in my life the double meaning of the joke has not been real, but, excitingly soon I will be able to say I literally 'dig' archaeology

so, here's to what I hope is the first of many posts about my summer under the Etruscan sun!

-Anna