For two weeks now I have been in Italy. I have had some terrific meals. I have stayed in some shabby hotels. I have had my computer break. I have had more rain than the Amazon. I have dealt with some of the rudest people of my life. I have nearly been arrested. I have spent too much money on things I didn't need. I have cried in frustration. And yet I am still here.
I ask myself why constantly, because I don't love Italy. Its fine. But not amazing. I think my perception of what I would find here has ruined it for me. And part of that is linked to the happiness I found in Spain.
When I set out on my journey, I picked a flight that left the day I wanted, flying to a city that I hoped to see, and on March 10 I landed in Barcelona under a full moon. How beautiful that was!
I didn't expect to be in Barcelona more than 3 days, and I stayed for 5. I did not plan to spend more than 2 weeks in Spain and yet I spent 5 whole weeks and have a flight back in a few days for Feria. I did not expect to like Spain as much as I did, and yet I loved EVERY MINUTE of it.
From the people, to the food, to the nutty experiences with Flower Power, to the fun and fabulous memories in Sevilla, and the religious and cultural experiences of Semana Santa... to the beaches and the winding city streets, to the museums and old historic towns, to the rioja and the manzanilla, to the 4AM nights and the lazy afternoons. Spain seemed to speak my language, although the language barrier was a challenge. My days there were SO HAPPY. I was the happiest girl on the block, wherever I was... Madrid, Barcelona, San Sebastian, Granada, and especially in Sevilla. I never thought I would love that country as much as I did. And part of that was feeling in synch with the people and situations around me. Meeting Jose. Meeting up with Eline and realizing how much we had in common. Meeting Miguel and the other Sevilla Boys. Meeting Javi and his friends. Meeting Peter and his friends. Meeting Karlyn and the German couple.
My experiences in Spain were life changing and eye-opening because I let them be. I had no expectations, and was continuously blown away. Everything seemed to fit. Everything seemed to amplify. ... And with all that positive emotion for one place, well, of course Italy looks like a sham! It could never compare to the soulful happiness I found in its Spanish Sister!
Maybe that's been my problem... Comparing it to Spain. Expecting my experiences here to equal what I knew there. They simply can never measure up, and I think I have to quit expecting them too. That's the only way I am going to appreciate Italy, is to give her a blank slate to create her own canvas. For who wants to paint under such high expectations, and such limits?
So apologies to Italy for the thoughts I have had...for the critical eye I have seen you with... and the frustrated vibes I have put out there. I am changing my attitude today, so hopefully, you can change your attitude about me? What do you say? A truce?
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Italian Idiocracies
Being in Italy for a few weeks now, I am starting to get a sense of what is “Italian” and what is specific to a city/region. These are commonalities that I have witnessed:
1. Restaurant servers are extremely rude and pushy. They are there to serve you, and will if you make decisions quickly, with minimal alterations to their menu, eat fast and pay and leave faster. Dilly dallying does not set well here.
2. Trains are disgusting, if not revolting. They smell, they are cramped, they are impossible to get on and off of with luggage.
3. Men are extremely abrasive. They know themselves, and think you should too. They make unneeded assumptions about you, such as thinking that you actually want to spend time with them. They talk about their work, their life, their clothes, their cars, their families…and have little regard for the fact that you are a person too with a job, a life, clothes, and a family.
4. One word: UPGRADE. In Hotels or hostels, go with the highest start-count you can afford. Three stars is a dive here in Italy… but don’t complain, they don’t care.
5. They dress a little rugged. Prim and proper is not an Italian concept. (obviously) Men are never clean shaven, they are slightly greasy and slick, and they are sure to be wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day. The women usually have unruly hair, or ironed straight in a very harsh fashion. Their make-up is too bold, their clothes too tight, and their presence over-bearing… this goes for men too.
6. In a Pharmacy, you can have whatever you want… WITHOUT a prescription. Seriously, just ask… for anything!
7. Pickpockets are everywhere. As proven by my stolen blackberry.
8. There is a sur-charge on everything. As proven by my AmEx bill.
9. They beg for tips in an obvious fashion. Forget you just paid for an over-priced ferry ride. The smarmy dude who drove you there will then stick his slimy paw out for a tip. Gross.
10. Men are wimps and know nothing of social graces. They will not help you with your luggage… but instead do worse. They wait until you have already picked up your bag, are breaking your back to get it in the overhead locker, and then will attempt “to spot you” like they do at cheerleading camp, without actually doing any heavy lifting. In turn, they expect you to desire a chat with them, and maybe a drink or dinner.
11. Housekeeping only comes to your room when you are in your room. Forget that you have been out site-seeing all morning and early afternoon. When you settle in for a siesta around 3PM you are for sure to get a knock on your door, and you have a decision to make. Do you answer it so you can have a fresh towel for the shower you know you will want to take after you nap? Or ignore it and hope you can fall back asleep?
12. With only a few exceptions, all views of the countryside and the coast are to die for. You cannot take enough photos or look long enough. Beauty is everywhere.
13. Hospitality is questionable at best. Don’t get me started on how bad it can be…
14. A passport is required to use the internet. This is no joke. Without a passport, no restaurant or hotel will give you access… even if you have already paid the exhorbitant fees they charge. I have no clue what they think I will do if I get online, but I love the fact they think I am dangerous.
15. Taxi drivers are crooks. If you use 20 Euros to pay a 12 Euro fare, they will assume that is a tip. Wrong, guess again, buddy.
16. Organization and proper logistics is not taught in art curation class. EVERY museum I visited in Italy (there were about 20) was a case study on HOW NOT TO LAY OUT A MUSEUM. From poor signage, to no signage at all, from having numbers start on the 1st floor, continuing on the 6th, resuming on the 3rd, and then the 7th… You get it, its bananas! I highly recommend that all art curators visit the Prado in Madrid and take careful note. That is a case study of this done right.
17. There is no such thing as a plain croissant. There is some unwritten – or maybe its written – that all croissants must be filled with cream, chocolate or jam. Yuck.
18. Cappucino is NOT the closest thing to American coffee, despite what a server or hostess will tell you. A cappuccino is a cappuccino. American coffee is American coffee. One is made with espresso beans, the other with coffee beans. Other than them both being made from beans, there is no similarity.
19. Pizza, wine and gelato are ALL outstanding. Eat lots of it… daily.
20. Italy is best done as a duo... whether your best man, or your best mate. Don't go it alone. Its very romantic if with your love, and if with a friend, you will for sure want someone to share a pizza with.
1. Restaurant servers are extremely rude and pushy. They are there to serve you, and will if you make decisions quickly, with minimal alterations to their menu, eat fast and pay and leave faster. Dilly dallying does not set well here.
2. Trains are disgusting, if not revolting. They smell, they are cramped, they are impossible to get on and off of with luggage.
3. Men are extremely abrasive. They know themselves, and think you should too. They make unneeded assumptions about you, such as thinking that you actually want to spend time with them. They talk about their work, their life, their clothes, their cars, their families…and have little regard for the fact that you are a person too with a job, a life, clothes, and a family.
4. One word: UPGRADE. In Hotels or hostels, go with the highest start-count you can afford. Three stars is a dive here in Italy… but don’t complain, they don’t care.
5. They dress a little rugged. Prim and proper is not an Italian concept. (obviously) Men are never clean shaven, they are slightly greasy and slick, and they are sure to be wearing sunglasses on a cloudy day. The women usually have unruly hair, or ironed straight in a very harsh fashion. Their make-up is too bold, their clothes too tight, and their presence over-bearing… this goes for men too.
6. In a Pharmacy, you can have whatever you want… WITHOUT a prescription. Seriously, just ask… for anything!
7. Pickpockets are everywhere. As proven by my stolen blackberry.
8. There is a sur-charge on everything. As proven by my AmEx bill.
9. They beg for tips in an obvious fashion. Forget you just paid for an over-priced ferry ride. The smarmy dude who drove you there will then stick his slimy paw out for a tip. Gross.
10. Men are wimps and know nothing of social graces. They will not help you with your luggage… but instead do worse. They wait until you have already picked up your bag, are breaking your back to get it in the overhead locker, and then will attempt “to spot you” like they do at cheerleading camp, without actually doing any heavy lifting. In turn, they expect you to desire a chat with them, and maybe a drink or dinner.
11. Housekeeping only comes to your room when you are in your room. Forget that you have been out site-seeing all morning and early afternoon. When you settle in for a siesta around 3PM you are for sure to get a knock on your door, and you have a decision to make. Do you answer it so you can have a fresh towel for the shower you know you will want to take after you nap? Or ignore it and hope you can fall back asleep?
12. With only a few exceptions, all views of the countryside and the coast are to die for. You cannot take enough photos or look long enough. Beauty is everywhere.
13. Hospitality is questionable at best. Don’t get me started on how bad it can be…
14. A passport is required to use the internet. This is no joke. Without a passport, no restaurant or hotel will give you access… even if you have already paid the exhorbitant fees they charge. I have no clue what they think I will do if I get online, but I love the fact they think I am dangerous.
15. Taxi drivers are crooks. If you use 20 Euros to pay a 12 Euro fare, they will assume that is a tip. Wrong, guess again, buddy.
16. Organization and proper logistics is not taught in art curation class. EVERY museum I visited in Italy (there were about 20) was a case study on HOW NOT TO LAY OUT A MUSEUM. From poor signage, to no signage at all, from having numbers start on the 1st floor, continuing on the 6th, resuming on the 3rd, and then the 7th… You get it, its bananas! I highly recommend that all art curators visit the Prado in Madrid and take careful note. That is a case study of this done right.
17. There is no such thing as a plain croissant. There is some unwritten – or maybe its written – that all croissants must be filled with cream, chocolate or jam. Yuck.
18. Cappucino is NOT the closest thing to American coffee, despite what a server or hostess will tell you. A cappuccino is a cappuccino. American coffee is American coffee. One is made with espresso beans, the other with coffee beans. Other than them both being made from beans, there is no similarity.
19. Pizza, wine and gelato are ALL outstanding. Eat lots of it… daily.
20. Italy is best done as a duo... whether your best man, or your best mate. Don't go it alone. Its very romantic if with your love, and if with a friend, you will for sure want someone to share a pizza with.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Plan Free
On Friday in Florence, I had no plans. At all. The art exhibition I wanted to see did not open until Saturday. And in thinking I would head out a day early, I had crammed in all the sights the day before. I really had nothing to do.
The evening prior I had been in the San Croce area and noticed that something was set up in the square, so I thought I would wonder over and see what I would find. Low and behold, it was a better version of the Green Market in Union Square! (one of my favorite spots in NYC). But here, there was A LOT more vino, cheese, bread and meats to choose from. Tables were set up to picnic, and that is what I did.
After perusing the offerings I selected a plate of marinated delights, some queso and really lovely glass of wine (from a real glass). As I nibbled and pondered my thoughts, I was invited to another glass of wine by a new friend, Leonardo. Who, quite incidentally, was a professor. Seems that I attract a certain type of energy in Italy, doesn’t it?
After my picnic, I made some calls to catch up with friends and family and did some small shopping. The day had pretty much been swept away in the market, and it was getting late and I had to find dinner before soon. I found an easy place by my hotel, grabbed a quick bite and went for a wander by the river. Something about moving water always puts my mind and spirit at ease…Not that I was in need of soothing, but I think better near water.
I put on my ipod, and walked. I seemed to think about everything on my little meander by the river. From the obvious reasons I am in Italy right now and not at some honeymoon destination, to the less obvious reasons I am in Italy and all that I had felt since leaving Sevilla. I thought about relationships I left in NYC, and the new ones I had created in Spain. I thought about my level of happiness, currently and in the past. I thought about the effort Italy required, and the simplicity of Spain. I thought through dreams I had reopened since venturing across the ocean and ways to make them happen. Mostly, I thought about me and what I wanted next. For as much as I may pretend that my little adventure will last forever, there would come a day that I would have to decide what TO DO next. I couldn’t keep traveling – at least physically – forever.
Something about this meander led me to a bar on the river, and as I ventured inside two guys started a conversation. We chatted briefly, ten minutes or so, and then I left. Men often boggle my mind with their lack of action. These two had hinted several times that we should all go inside, yet the steps to do that remained unseen. I wasn't waiting on them to take action. So I left. I really did not want to hang out with them anymore.
From here I found a lovely glass of prosecco in Piazza Republico, and brought out my journal to record my thoughts. That is one thing I will give Italy. As a country, it was trying my very last nerve, but these tests were giving me lots of fuel for thought, which is never a bad thing. And for that, Italy, I thank you.
The evening prior I had been in the San Croce area and noticed that something was set up in the square, so I thought I would wonder over and see what I would find. Low and behold, it was a better version of the Green Market in Union Square! (one of my favorite spots in NYC). But here, there was A LOT more vino, cheese, bread and meats to choose from. Tables were set up to picnic, and that is what I did.
After perusing the offerings I selected a plate of marinated delights, some queso and really lovely glass of wine (from a real glass). As I nibbled and pondered my thoughts, I was invited to another glass of wine by a new friend, Leonardo. Who, quite incidentally, was a professor. Seems that I attract a certain type of energy in Italy, doesn’t it?
After my picnic, I made some calls to catch up with friends and family and did some small shopping. The day had pretty much been swept away in the market, and it was getting late and I had to find dinner before soon. I found an easy place by my hotel, grabbed a quick bite and went for a wander by the river. Something about moving water always puts my mind and spirit at ease…Not that I was in need of soothing, but I think better near water.
I put on my ipod, and walked. I seemed to think about everything on my little meander by the river. From the obvious reasons I am in Italy right now and not at some honeymoon destination, to the less obvious reasons I am in Italy and all that I had felt since leaving Sevilla. I thought about relationships I left in NYC, and the new ones I had created in Spain. I thought about my level of happiness, currently and in the past. I thought about the effort Italy required, and the simplicity of Spain. I thought through dreams I had reopened since venturing across the ocean and ways to make them happen. Mostly, I thought about me and what I wanted next. For as much as I may pretend that my little adventure will last forever, there would come a day that I would have to decide what TO DO next. I couldn’t keep traveling – at least physically – forever.
Something about this meander led me to a bar on the river, and as I ventured inside two guys started a conversation. We chatted briefly, ten minutes or so, and then I left. Men often boggle my mind with their lack of action. These two had hinted several times that we should all go inside, yet the steps to do that remained unseen. I wasn't waiting on them to take action. So I left. I really did not want to hang out with them anymore.
From here I found a lovely glass of prosecco in Piazza Republico, and brought out my journal to record my thoughts. That is one thing I will give Italy. As a country, it was trying my very last nerve, but these tests were giving me lots of fuel for thought, which is never a bad thing. And for that, Italy, I thank you.
Wherever You Go, There You Are
My travels in Italy have left me with a foggy head. I don’t feel like my spunky self here, and often feel I am in battle with the world and in some ways myself. There is a part of me that is saying "Come on, Paige. Get on with this charade." And another part saying "But I want to see this, and do that...The weather will change tomorrow. Nice people will come our way. You will get the break you are looking for."
Very much representative of the constant battle that goes on in my head. The intuitive, no-bullshit side of me wanting to cut the crap and games, and focus on the things that I KNOW exist and make me happy. The dreamy, happy-go-lucky, child-like side always convinced that the big break will come tomorrow, the sun will come out, and all will be right with the world when such break happens.
Duality has always been my strength in life. Unfortunately, its also my greatest weakness.
And so this afternoon in Florence I find myself at odds with myself, asking the age old question, "Should I stay or should I go?" My existing reservation told me that staying was probably the more economical choice, and the falling rain clued me in that this may be the least problematic choice as well. But what was I to do to fill the next day?
I had seen all I could possibly see – the Duomo, the Academia, the Uffizi gallery, Piazzi Palace, etc. etc. I had been taking it in at a rapid pace in hopes of ditching out a day early, so I had nothing new to do. But I could wander aimlessly, that I was really good at.
I learned when I first moved to New York that I need to live in a place that allows for aimless wandering in city streets. The kind of place that allows you to pseudo-get-lost and then pseudo-find yourself again...perhaps seeing something new along the way. When I am in wandering mode I do my best thinking, pondering and soul-searching, much more so than I could do if I was sitting still. Something about moving forward helps me move forward in my mind. And this evening in Florence, I was ready to do just that.
As I headed to the river to wander my heart out, I thought about where I was (Florence), where I came from (Georgia), where I currently live or at least claim residency (NYC), my favorite cities in the world (BsAs, Copenhagen, Paris, Madrid), my favorite places in the world (Sevilla, Rio, Jax Beach, St. Augustine). I thought about the similarities and differences of each, and then I thought about me and where I fit into the little world map I had created for myself.
There was some point I was trying to drive myself to with this game, that was obvious. But what that point was still lost on me. I loved where I was from, but did not want to live there. I loved NYC, but always find myself eager to leave for any kind of reason. I loved certain cities but equally would not want to spend a life there. And my favorite places I would move to any in a heart beat, as long as I had a means of affording a life there... and yet, I never really pursued this life as NYC always took over because of job security.
I thought about my feelings on my travels so far. LOVING Spain. Finding frustration in Italy. Remembering the ease of my Spanish life, the happiness of my times there, the genuinity of the people... And here I was in Florence, in a country that reminded me way too much of NYC to call it easy, with people that were as hard as you find in New York, with prices as equally hard to swallow... and I had to wonder why I chose to be here, and ultimately why I chose to be in NYC, when in both I am always counting the days until my next adventure to get me the hell out of there.
It seems for so long I allowed NYC to be my identity. I could hide behind its big buildings, its big personalities and big reputation. But where was I in all of that? I wanted to live downtown where its small and quaint. I prefer more light personalities to spend time with and walk away from the brassy, obnoxious NYCer, and the reputation? Well, its straight out of Italy and we all knew how I was feeling about that. What was I (me, Paige Miller) doing in such a hard-edged place? What did I think I was gaining? Where did I think it would lead?
After 6 weeks of travel, it had taken me until now to even contemplate my life in NYC after my travels. When I left in March, I was more than ready to go. But I always thought I would want to come back at the end of it... And yet, as it came time to look for an apartment for my return, I found myself focusing only on the summer... and maybe on the fall...but after that? I don't know that I see it.
Seven years in that crazy city led me to the streets of Spain and the river of Florence. Once again, always needing an escape from the life I chose. Did I always want to live like that? Needing a break from my life? Needing a break from my dreams? Or better yet, as this situation so clearly spelled out, needing to LEAVE my life to find my dreams? How good is your life if you always have to leave to find your dreams?
I was thinking about so much, my head was like a bag of microwave popcorn. Firing off ideas left and right... but there were some good thoughts bursting forward. Something was changing for me, and had been for some time, I just had not really seen it. Regardless of where I went... NYC, Spain, Italy, Greece, Georgia... I was dealing with myself. NYC may have given me something to hide behind, but I was through playing hide-n-seek. I wanted me, I wanted myself, I wanted life, and most importantly, I wanted MY LIFE with no escape routes, or detours... And no matter where I went in the world, I could always have that if I chose it. Some places my life (or the things I want in it) fits more easily. And there were places where I simply was the sunshiniest girl on the block (hello, Sevilla!)... but ultimately, I get to choose. And something tells me when it comes time to choose again, my home - wherever that may be - will be where I want to truly be, no escape routes, disappearing acts, etc. Its not exactly that time, but I do know, soon, I will be ready to find my home... But that is not now. I still have four weeks of adventures, a summer (if not a fall) in NYC, a marathon to run, and ultimately a life to live. The latter can start now, regardless of the fact that I was in Italy.
Very much representative of the constant battle that goes on in my head. The intuitive, no-bullshit side of me wanting to cut the crap and games, and focus on the things that I KNOW exist and make me happy. The dreamy, happy-go-lucky, child-like side always convinced that the big break will come tomorrow, the sun will come out, and all will be right with the world when such break happens.
Duality has always been my strength in life. Unfortunately, its also my greatest weakness.
And so this afternoon in Florence I find myself at odds with myself, asking the age old question, "Should I stay or should I go?" My existing reservation told me that staying was probably the more economical choice, and the falling rain clued me in that this may be the least problematic choice as well. But what was I to do to fill the next day?
I had seen all I could possibly see – the Duomo, the Academia, the Uffizi gallery, Piazzi Palace, etc. etc. I had been taking it in at a rapid pace in hopes of ditching out a day early, so I had nothing new to do. But I could wander aimlessly, that I was really good at.
I learned when I first moved to New York that I need to live in a place that allows for aimless wandering in city streets. The kind of place that allows you to pseudo-get-lost and then pseudo-find yourself again...perhaps seeing something new along the way. When I am in wandering mode I do my best thinking, pondering and soul-searching, much more so than I could do if I was sitting still. Something about moving forward helps me move forward in my mind. And this evening in Florence, I was ready to do just that.
As I headed to the river to wander my heart out, I thought about where I was (Florence), where I came from (Georgia), where I currently live or at least claim residency (NYC), my favorite cities in the world (BsAs, Copenhagen, Paris, Madrid), my favorite places in the world (Sevilla, Rio, Jax Beach, St. Augustine). I thought about the similarities and differences of each, and then I thought about me and where I fit into the little world map I had created for myself.
There was some point I was trying to drive myself to with this game, that was obvious. But what that point was still lost on me. I loved where I was from, but did not want to live there. I loved NYC, but always find myself eager to leave for any kind of reason. I loved certain cities but equally would not want to spend a life there. And my favorite places I would move to any in a heart beat, as long as I had a means of affording a life there... and yet, I never really pursued this life as NYC always took over because of job security.
I thought about my feelings on my travels so far. LOVING Spain. Finding frustration in Italy. Remembering the ease of my Spanish life, the happiness of my times there, the genuinity of the people... And here I was in Florence, in a country that reminded me way too much of NYC to call it easy, with people that were as hard as you find in New York, with prices as equally hard to swallow... and I had to wonder why I chose to be here, and ultimately why I chose to be in NYC, when in both I am always counting the days until my next adventure to get me the hell out of there.
It seems for so long I allowed NYC to be my identity. I could hide behind its big buildings, its big personalities and big reputation. But where was I in all of that? I wanted to live downtown where its small and quaint. I prefer more light personalities to spend time with and walk away from the brassy, obnoxious NYCer, and the reputation? Well, its straight out of Italy and we all knew how I was feeling about that. What was I (me, Paige Miller) doing in such a hard-edged place? What did I think I was gaining? Where did I think it would lead?
After 6 weeks of travel, it had taken me until now to even contemplate my life in NYC after my travels. When I left in March, I was more than ready to go. But I always thought I would want to come back at the end of it... And yet, as it came time to look for an apartment for my return, I found myself focusing only on the summer... and maybe on the fall...but after that? I don't know that I see it.
Seven years in that crazy city led me to the streets of Spain and the river of Florence. Once again, always needing an escape from the life I chose. Did I always want to live like that? Needing a break from my life? Needing a break from my dreams? Or better yet, as this situation so clearly spelled out, needing to LEAVE my life to find my dreams? How good is your life if you always have to leave to find your dreams?
I was thinking about so much, my head was like a bag of microwave popcorn. Firing off ideas left and right... but there were some good thoughts bursting forward. Something was changing for me, and had been for some time, I just had not really seen it. Regardless of where I went... NYC, Spain, Italy, Greece, Georgia... I was dealing with myself. NYC may have given me something to hide behind, but I was through playing hide-n-seek. I wanted me, I wanted myself, I wanted life, and most importantly, I wanted MY LIFE with no escape routes, or detours... And no matter where I went in the world, I could always have that if I chose it. Some places my life (or the things I want in it) fits more easily. And there were places where I simply was the sunshiniest girl on the block (hello, Sevilla!)... but ultimately, I get to choose. And something tells me when it comes time to choose again, my home - wherever that may be - will be where I want to truly be, no escape routes, disappearing acts, etc. Its not exactly that time, but I do know, soon, I will be ready to find my home... But that is not now. I still have four weeks of adventures, a summer (if not a fall) in NYC, a marathon to run, and ultimately a life to live. The latter can start now, regardless of the fact that I was in Italy.
Yesterday was plain awful...
For some reason I have the soundtrack to Annie in my head. Maybe because after almost 2 months of travels and sleeping in a different bed almost every night and living out of a suitcase, I do feel a bit like orphan Annie. Homeless, wandering, searching, hoping, dreaming... And like Annie, my tune yesterday -- well, really more of a plea -- was "The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow."
Yesterday I simply took one beating after another... mentally of course! Although, almost getting arrested was no joke. It all started with the crook of a taxi driver in Siena taking the LONG way around the city to the train station. These Italian cities are tiny. There is no way it takes 15 minutes to go from my hotel to the train station -- it was 3 kms away! But I did not cause a stir. Maybe if I had stood up for myself and didn't feel rushed at the train station I would have noticed the sign that said "validate your tickets here". But I didn't.
Which led to the reason I was almost arrested. Apparently this is a big deal to have your ticket validated, although I still do not see the point. The Italians think so, as my 6.10 Euro train ticket to Florence quickly sky rocketed to +40 in order to pay the fine (seriously, the jackass wrote me a ticket... and wagged his finger at me... and threatened to turn me into the police when I told him I did not think I had 40 Euros on me... and then threatened to take my passport). I have never felt so violated in my life. I was scared. For one moment of irrational thought, I seriously thought I could be deported.
With all my cash in the pockets of that smarmy conductor, I got off the train and attempted to find my hotel. There were several stops to look at my map... one which involved the bouncer at some fancy boutique to come and yell at me in Italian for blocking his surveilance (sp?) camera. Did he really think I was trying to block his camera? Give the girl with a map a break! Then the witches at my hotel were the most unhospitable duo known to man. These Italians need to learn something from this Southerner. They simply are plain RUDE. They carried on a conversation with each other for 4 minutes while I stood there with my passport. Um, hello? Then they just looked at me. Argh. Then they let me know that 'no' they did not have availability on Saturday night, 'no' they did not have anything that faced the street, and 'no' they did not have anything on a higher floor.
With the last 'no' I tucked my head down, lowered my eyes to hide my tears, took my key, nodded my head and went to find my room. Within in twenty seconds of entering, I was face down in tears on the bed. Its silly, I know. As nothing besides almost being arrested happened yesterday. I just felt beaten up by the world, and this country that I am not totally in love with. I don't want to leave just yet as there is so much I want to see here. But honestly, much of what I have seen has been overrated. Although, in Florence the fascade of the Duomo, Michelangelo's David, Botticelli's Birth of Venus, and the Piazzi Palace have been well worth it. Fortunately, I have been able to skip the lines due to good fortune (some guy had an extra ticket, it rained just as I was heading to the Accademia and the line left, etc.), or else these marvels of man may not be so intriguing. I am getting through it. And sadly, I do feel like here you have to put up with a bunch of stuff you don't want (attitude, lines, frustration, rain) to see what you do want. Nothing about Italy has been easy -- the weather, the expense, the lines, etc. Beautiful and awe-inspiring, yes. Easy, no. But I am glad I am here, if only to remind me of the contrast in life. To have rainbows you have to have rain. To have lemonade, you have to have lemons. And to have a day that was plain awful, makes me more and more happy to return to the true sense of 'knowing' that comes when you do find a place or a face that truly makes you smile from the heart. One that makes you want to sing, "I know I'm gonna like it here!"
Yesterday I simply took one beating after another... mentally of course! Although, almost getting arrested was no joke. It all started with the crook of a taxi driver in Siena taking the LONG way around the city to the train station. These Italian cities are tiny. There is no way it takes 15 minutes to go from my hotel to the train station -- it was 3 kms away! But I did not cause a stir. Maybe if I had stood up for myself and didn't feel rushed at the train station I would have noticed the sign that said "validate your tickets here". But I didn't.
Which led to the reason I was almost arrested. Apparently this is a big deal to have your ticket validated, although I still do not see the point. The Italians think so, as my 6.10 Euro train ticket to Florence quickly sky rocketed to +40 in order to pay the fine (seriously, the jackass wrote me a ticket... and wagged his finger at me... and threatened to turn me into the police when I told him I did not think I had 40 Euros on me... and then threatened to take my passport). I have never felt so violated in my life. I was scared. For one moment of irrational thought, I seriously thought I could be deported.
With all my cash in the pockets of that smarmy conductor, I got off the train and attempted to find my hotel. There were several stops to look at my map... one which involved the bouncer at some fancy boutique to come and yell at me in Italian for blocking his surveilance (sp?) camera. Did he really think I was trying to block his camera? Give the girl with a map a break! Then the witches at my hotel were the most unhospitable duo known to man. These Italians need to learn something from this Southerner. They simply are plain RUDE. They carried on a conversation with each other for 4 minutes while I stood there with my passport. Um, hello? Then they just looked at me. Argh. Then they let me know that 'no' they did not have availability on Saturday night, 'no' they did not have anything that faced the street, and 'no' they did not have anything on a higher floor.
With the last 'no' I tucked my head down, lowered my eyes to hide my tears, took my key, nodded my head and went to find my room. Within in twenty seconds of entering, I was face down in tears on the bed. Its silly, I know. As nothing besides almost being arrested happened yesterday. I just felt beaten up by the world, and this country that I am not totally in love with. I don't want to leave just yet as there is so much I want to see here. But honestly, much of what I have seen has been overrated. Although, in Florence the fascade of the Duomo, Michelangelo's David, Botticelli's Birth of Venus, and the Piazzi Palace have been well worth it. Fortunately, I have been able to skip the lines due to good fortune (some guy had an extra ticket, it rained just as I was heading to the Accademia and the line left, etc.), or else these marvels of man may not be so intriguing. I am getting through it. And sadly, I do feel like here you have to put up with a bunch of stuff you don't want (attitude, lines, frustration, rain) to see what you do want. Nothing about Italy has been easy -- the weather, the expense, the lines, etc. Beautiful and awe-inspiring, yes. Easy, no. But I am glad I am here, if only to remind me of the contrast in life. To have rainbows you have to have rain. To have lemonade, you have to have lemons. And to have a day that was plain awful, makes me more and more happy to return to the true sense of 'knowing' that comes when you do find a place or a face that truly makes you smile from the heart. One that makes you want to sing, "I know I'm gonna like it here!"
(A few photos from Florence)
Seeing Siena... in the RAIN!
Since being in Italy there is one more thing that I had to deal with… rain! Every day was a shower or a flood, or some other downpour that involved the use of an umbrella. Ugh. I was not happy about this.
What made it more difficult is that if I had an umbrella, you can guarantee that every other American tourist ALSO had an umbrella. Traveling became much more difficult for sure.
Despite the rain, I was able to get in and out in Siena. It was a larger version of the small Tuscan towns we had toured with Romeo. The Duomo was spectacular. The museum had a marvelous exhibit on madness in art (equally as well-curated as those in Venice). The piazza was great for people watching. And I had a lovely slice of pizza for 1 euro. And then I was ready to go…Again, not much to hang around for.
What made it more difficult is that if I had an umbrella, you can guarantee that every other American tourist ALSO had an umbrella. Traveling became much more difficult for sure.
Despite the rain, I was able to get in and out in Siena. It was a larger version of the small Tuscan towns we had toured with Romeo. The Duomo was spectacular. The museum had a marvelous exhibit on madness in art (equally as well-curated as those in Venice). The piazza was great for people watching. And I had a lovely slice of pizza for 1 euro. And then I was ready to go…Again, not much to hang around for.
Italy so far...
I have made it to Sienna (part of Tuscany) after a fun, long weekend with Sandra. Having a friend to share the Italian experience with definitely jazzed up my overall feeling of being in Italy. I don't know really what I expected Italy to be like, but after the sun and fun filled days of my Spanish travels, I know I was hoping for more than this. The one question I keep asking myself is "why am I here?" And somehow I feel when I am able to answer that, I will be able to move forward, with alot of things and not just my travels.
The weather in Italy has been crap, minus a super sunny day in Venice. Rain almost every day, and if not rain, ultra-grayness that only leaves a foggy view of life. As much as I hate to admit, so far Italy isn't doing it for me. It is probably one of the most -- if not the most -- beautiful countries I have been to. Everywhere I turn is a picture perfect scene. Its lovely if you are photographer. However, to me the overall feeling of the country is lifeless. Its not thriving and vibrant like my days in Spain, where everyday was tingling with excitement, adventure, passion and dreams. I feel like a tourist in Italy, and truly don't find myself wanting to become more. Its sad, as this is the one place I have been wanting to visit for so long, and I feel myself being slightly robotic about touring its winding streets, tasting its wine and olive oil, and learning to cook its simple dishes.
The food is divine, I will say. As is the wine. And gelato. But its all expensive. I have yet to find the value in Italy. Sadly, it reminds me of NYC and that has not been a welcoming thought. Somehow I have ventured far past my New York life into a life that is truly my own and truly different than what I thought this journey was about or where I thought this journey would lead. I find myself wanting to cut out the bullshit that we pretend (or at least I was) gives life meaning and focus on the things that make me happy, joyful and a peace with myself. Unfortunately, I am finding very few of those things here. I am willing to chalk it up to the dreary weather for another day or two... but after that I think its time to call an ace an ace and a spade a spade and move on... the world is to grand to spend time in places you really don't care to be.
And maybe that in itself is the answer to my question. I am here because I thought this is what I wanted. But in travels, just as in life, we are all allowed to change our minds and alter the path we set out on. God knows I am queen of altering plans and changing agendas...something tells me there are a few alterations in my immediate future.
The weather in Italy has been crap, minus a super sunny day in Venice. Rain almost every day, and if not rain, ultra-grayness that only leaves a foggy view of life. As much as I hate to admit, so far Italy isn't doing it for me. It is probably one of the most -- if not the most -- beautiful countries I have been to. Everywhere I turn is a picture perfect scene. Its lovely if you are photographer. However, to me the overall feeling of the country is lifeless. Its not thriving and vibrant like my days in Spain, where everyday was tingling with excitement, adventure, passion and dreams. I feel like a tourist in Italy, and truly don't find myself wanting to become more. Its sad, as this is the one place I have been wanting to visit for so long, and I feel myself being slightly robotic about touring its winding streets, tasting its wine and olive oil, and learning to cook its simple dishes.
The food is divine, I will say. As is the wine. And gelato. But its all expensive. I have yet to find the value in Italy. Sadly, it reminds me of NYC and that has not been a welcoming thought. Somehow I have ventured far past my New York life into a life that is truly my own and truly different than what I thought this journey was about or where I thought this journey would lead. I find myself wanting to cut out the bullshit that we pretend (or at least I was) gives life meaning and focus on the things that make me happy, joyful and a peace with myself. Unfortunately, I am finding very few of those things here. I am willing to chalk it up to the dreary weather for another day or two... but after that I think its time to call an ace an ace and a spade a spade and move on... the world is to grand to spend time in places you really don't care to be.
And maybe that in itself is the answer to my question. I am here because I thought this is what I wanted. But in travels, just as in life, we are all allowed to change our minds and alter the path we set out on. God knows I am queen of altering plans and changing agendas...something tells me there are a few alterations in my immediate future.
Ciao, Bella!
After a much needed bath, we began cooking lesson #2, which flowed in similar format as our lunch lesson that day. The one difference was that since no one was driving anywhere afterwards, Pascal poured wine before we even entered the kitchen. We drank wine for the entire hour we prepared our meal, and started on a bottle of Lambrusco which we finished as well before we entered the dining room.
Our beverage consumption continued like this throughout our meal, and finished with a bottle of champagne and Italian liquor. Italian dining is so much fun... but now we had to deal with suitcases and such in a loopy state. Fun times for sure!After getting a restless 5 hours of sleep, Sandra and I woke early (4AM) to get on the road to Roma for her 9AM flight. This is friendship I tell you!
We had had the best weekend, ate entirely too much, and made splendid memories. I could not ask for a better friend to spend part of my journey with. I was sad she was leaving, but at the same time I had to get back to my journey…I only had one month left.
We had had the best weekend, ate entirely too much, and made splendid memories. I could not ask for a better friend to spend part of my journey with. I was sad she was leaving, but at the same time I had to get back to my journey…I only had one month left.
Splish, Splash, I Was Taking a Bath...
After our delightful lunch with lots of wine, we dashed out the door in time to make it to the hot springs in Saturni. Romeo had told us that this would be the perfect place to waste away the afternoon. We would emerge from the springs with velvet skin and smelling like rotten eggs. Perfect, just the odor I was seeking this afternoon.
Getting to Saturni was another lovely drive in the Tuscan countryside. We parked the car, disrobed and entered the smelly waters… Seriously, the smell was quite a deterent. But we had time to shower before cooking lesson #2.
The feeling was quite divine, minus the little girl who wanted to splash the smelly water all over us, but when you are sitting IN such water, what is a few drops really? We stayed in the waters for about an hour, until I got bit by something, which ALWAYS seems to happen to me on vacation. We took this as a reason to leave, and immediately began trying to get the smell off of our bodies. There was going to be some serious bathing going on!
Getting to Saturni was another lovely drive in the Tuscan countryside. We parked the car, disrobed and entered the smelly waters… Seriously, the smell was quite a deterent. But we had time to shower before cooking lesson #2.
The feeling was quite divine, minus the little girl who wanted to splash the smelly water all over us, but when you are sitting IN such water, what is a few drops really? We stayed in the waters for about an hour, until I got bit by something, which ALWAYS seems to happen to me on vacation. We took this as a reason to leave, and immediately began trying to get the smell off of our bodies. There was going to be some serious bathing going on!
Foodies!
On Sandra’s actual birthday, we were set for a day of food experiences. We would be cooking two meals with Carlos and Pascal, and then feasting on the fruits of our labor.
But before that happened, we needed Italian pastries, which were easily found in the town of Arcidosso. Yummy. Yummy. Yummy. We found lots of treats to get Sandra’s birthday started the right way, and got a bag of treats to go. Then we were due in the kitchen.
Cooking with Carlos was guaranteed to be an experience. Carlos looks like Santa Claus – white hair, bright blue eyes, and red glasses that are magnetized in the middle so when he takes them off it seems they break in the middle. Carlos is probably in his 70s, and like all Italians, takes himself very seriously. 
Pascal, his girlfriend, would be helping out on our cooking tour. She was French turned Italian, had an olive farm and was just lovely. She had a subtle, yet big personality, which is a pleasant combination.
The menu we were to prepare was written on a chalkboard, aprons and notebooks marked ‘our stations’, and ingredients were laid out with care. For lunch we were preparing, bruscetta alla Toscano, pollo con pepperocini, and penne con pancetta and carciofi. Yep, today, I would definitely be putting on some weight!
Celebrations!
Part of the reason we wanted to dine just the two of us, was this weekend we were celebrating several things. Things that are shared with friends, and not things you really want an almost stranger sitting in on.
Sandra was turning 29 the next day, and while that is not necessarily a totally private affair, we had a lot to catch up on as to what may happen in her 29th year. Sandra always wanted to own property by the time she was 30. She had also just moved in with her long-time boyfriend, Mike. Since Romeo had been tagging along with EVERYTHING, we had yet to catch up on all these things.
The other thing we were celebrating is that today was 4/19 and I was still single. The day before had been my proposed wedding day, but fortunately I had seen the light at the beginning of the year and any plans that had been made for such an affair were immediately cancelled. (Did you know you can cancel a wedding in 10 minutes? Easy as pie!)
I did not know how I would feel when 4/18 rolled around. I did not know if I would be remorseful that the day was not happening as originally planned. Since I had ended my relationship I had not missed my ex… not once. That fact alone made me a bit sad, as after three years you would like to think there was an ounce of regret. But no. Not for me. Not today. And the way things had gone so far, probably not ever.
I did not know how I would feel when 4/18 rolled around. I did not know if I would be remorseful that the day was not happening as originally planned. Since I had ended my relationship I had not missed my ex… not once. That fact alone made me a bit sad, as after three years you would like to think there was an ounce of regret. But no. Not for me. Not today. And the way things had gone so far, probably not ever.
But enough about me, with such little thought or feeling for my ex, there was nothing to discuss related to him, so the evening could be all about Sandra... and Pascal and Carlos made sure it was such.
After an elaborate, multi-course meal, the restaurant is silent. And then came the clapping, and banging of dishes, and Italian Happy Birthday sung by Carlos the Angel (see photo). This was totally up Sandra's alley... Happy Birthday, amica! 
Under the Tuscan Sun
The next morning we were up early and down at breakfast by 9AM so that we could head out on our Tuscan adventure. We were exploring wine country today, learning about cheese and olive oil and seeing the small towns of Pienza, Montalcino and Montepulciano. We could not wait.
Romeo picked us up in a van and we were off, coasting through the Italian countryside. It was lovely, lovely. EXCEPT, this guy was dangerous on the road. Every turn was taken at breakneck speed, each stop sign we coasted through, and after 30 minutes or so, my dear friend Sandra started to look a little green. Fortunately, the silence that evaporated the van caused Romeo to take notice and invite her to sit up front with him. Excellent plan!
Romeo picked us up in a van and we were off, coasting through the Italian countryside. It was lovely, lovely. EXCEPT, this guy was dangerous on the road. Every turn was taken at breakneck speed, each stop sign we coasted through, and after 30 minutes or so, my dear friend Sandra started to look a little green. Fortunately, the silence that evaporated the van caused Romeo to take notice and invite her to sit up front with him. Excellent plan!
Every glance of our drive was picture perfect, filled with vivid greens, terracotta roofs, and such vast expanse until we reached a small medieval or Renaissance town. I could definitely see why people sought out this part of Italy.
It helped having Romeo direct us, teach us and lead us on this exploration. At the end of the day we had explored two wineries, eaten so much cheese and tasted so much olive oil. We had had a delicious lunch in Pienza, shopped in the small towns we passed, and truly gotten an education.
Now came the tricky part…telling Romeo he was not invited to dinner. Something told me he would not mind.
It helped having Romeo direct us, teach us and lead us on this exploration. At the end of the day we had explored two wineries, eaten so much cheese and tasted so much olive oil. We had had a delicious lunch in Pienza, shopped in the small towns we passed, and truly gotten an education.
Now came the tricky part…telling Romeo he was not invited to dinner. Something told me he would not mind.
Three's Company
When we got settled in Casa Innocenti, our host – Romeo (of course!) – took us to his family’s restaurant for dinner. When we sat down, we were surprised that the table was set for three instead of two. Was this dude going to join us for dinner?
The answer was yes. And not only was he joining us but he was going to tell us what we could have and then talk the entire time. We had wanted to see a menu, and order like normal people, but he had other plans. He was pleasant enough to converse with, and we were full when we left, so I guess it was fine…but it was strange, yes, very strange.
The answer was yes. And not only was he joining us but he was going to tell us what we could have and then talk the entire time. We had wanted to see a menu, and order like normal people, but he had other plans. He was pleasant enough to converse with, and we were full when we left, so I guess it was fine…but it was strange, yes, very strange.
Italian Road Trip
When I left Bologna, I was headed to Roma on another disgusting Italian train. From the central station in Rome I guessed my way onto another train headed to the airport, and faked losing a ticket when the conductor came to collect, and had to purchase one on the train. 12 Euros?! God, this place is expensive. I found Sandra at the rental car place, and after figuring out the language on our GPS, our girls weekend was officially underway!
Sandra and I have an unspoken rule that when in foreign countries I do the driving, and when in the States she takes the wheel. Why exactly, I am not sure. Maybe because of the two of us, I am the only one that can drive a stick-shift, which is usually what we find abroad. This time, in Italy, we had requested an automatic so she could enjoy driving through Tuscany, but no such luck. I think the only place that has what Americans all 'automatics' is America. What we got was some sort of hybrid that I was even struggling to figure out!
Driving in Italy is definitely the best way to go. Most towns take less than a day to see (if that), and most are the perfect size to stop for lunch wander around and then be on the way. Our first stop after the airport, was the tiny town of i Saturi. It was large enough to have five eating options, and we chose one in the square where we had a lunch of ravioli and chicken francese.
Italy is a place where you want to travel with someone...especially when it comes to dining out. In Spain, you can always find tapas, so you can have several small plates to constitute a meal for one. In Italy you only have big plates, and usually you want to try different things so its best when you have someone to share.
From Saturi we made our way into Tuscany, to Arcidosso where we were staying for three days to learn to cook like they do in this region. Sandra had made the request for her birthday, and I was happy to oblige. I was more than happy to have someone telling me what to do for a few days. After a month of doing it on my own and purely Paige, I wouldn't mind having someone else take the wheel.
Sandra and I have an unspoken rule that when in foreign countries I do the driving, and when in the States she takes the wheel. Why exactly, I am not sure. Maybe because of the two of us, I am the only one that can drive a stick-shift, which is usually what we find abroad. This time, in Italy, we had requested an automatic so she could enjoy driving through Tuscany, but no such luck. I think the only place that has what Americans all 'automatics' is America. What we got was some sort of hybrid that I was even struggling to figure out!
Driving in Italy is definitely the best way to go. Most towns take less than a day to see (if that), and most are the perfect size to stop for lunch wander around and then be on the way. Our first stop after the airport, was the tiny town of i Saturi. It was large enough to have five eating options, and we chose one in the square where we had a lunch of ravioli and chicken francese.
Italy is a place where you want to travel with someone...especially when it comes to dining out. In Spain, you can always find tapas, so you can have several small plates to constitute a meal for one. In Italy you only have big plates, and usually you want to try different things so its best when you have someone to share.
From Saturi we made our way into Tuscany, to Arcidosso where we were staying for three days to learn to cook like they do in this region. Sandra had made the request for her birthday, and I was happy to oblige. I was more than happy to have someone telling me what to do for a few days. After a month of doing it on my own and purely Paige, I wouldn't mind having someone else take the wheel.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
A Pair of Two Night-Stands
After Venice, I had two nights to see something new before meeting up with my friend in Roma. Also, after Venice I knew I could easily take in two cities (one night in each) as seeing Italy doesn’t take up as much time as seeing Spain.
I spent one in Verona, the other in Bologna. I took a ton of photos, saw many old churches and visited museums. Each place took a few hours, and then I was ready to go. Sadly, Italy was giving me little to hold onto... except an umbrella, and that was hardly desirable.
I spent one in Verona, the other in Bologna. I took a ton of photos, saw many old churches and visited museums. Each place took a few hours, and then I was ready to go. Sadly, Italy was giving me little to hold onto... except an umbrella, and that was hardly desirable.
A Writer without a Pen
When I got to Bologna, the most awful thing happened. My laptop died. Broke. Finito. Whatever was wrong with it, there was nothing I could do to fix it, which was deeply frustrating as I so desperately wanted to write. Having had too much fun in Sevilla left me with a ‘writing debt’ to myself. Not exactly the state I like to be.
I had come to cherish my evenings to myself, when I would unwind and write about the days tales, or remember funny stories from previous cities that had yet been recorded, or ponder thoughts that had journeyed with me throughout the day. Slowly and yet, surely, I have become dependent on my laptop and these moments as an outlet to celebratate my joys, vent my frustrations, and ask questions as they arose. Without a tool to express myself, what was I to do?
I had come to cherish my evenings to myself, when I would unwind and write about the days tales, or remember funny stories from previous cities that had yet been recorded, or ponder thoughts that had journeyed with me throughout the day. Slowly and yet, surely, I have become dependent on my laptop and these moments as an outlet to celebratate my joys, vent my frustrations, and ask questions as they arose. Without a tool to express myself, what was I to do?
A River Runs Through It
When I woke in Verona, I was ready for a long run, and having discovered the river last night I knew just where I was headed.
In all of these old Italian (and Spanish) towns, it makes sense that a river would flow through the old city center, as a water way was what most likely led to the city being created in the first place. I just had not thought much about it before.
As I ran beside the river in Verona, and I glimpsed the ruins to my right the cathedral in front of me and the old town just beyond that I had to laugh as it was clear that not much had changed since the 14th century. And that’s truly what made these little towns what they were and are. Somethings simply are better when left unchanged. Maybe I was finding some appreciation for Italy after all...
In all of these old Italian (and Spanish) towns, it makes sense that a river would flow through the old city center, as a water way was what most likely led to the city being created in the first place. I just had not thought much about it before.
As I ran beside the river in Verona, and I glimpsed the ruins to my right the cathedral in front of me and the old town just beyond that I had to laugh as it was clear that not much had changed since the 14th century. And that’s truly what made these little towns what they were and are. Somethings simply are better when left unchanged. Maybe I was finding some appreciation for Italy after all...
A Tale of Two Professors
When I went to dinner in Verona, I was interested in the northern Italian menu. A lot of what was offered was very different than what I had ever tried before -- not just in Italy, but in the world. Specifically, the menu offered horse meat or donkey meat. I was to choose one. I went with horse, although the idea was slightly unsettling.
My meal was fine. Nothing spectacular. As I was finishing, the two elderly men beside me wanted to chat. It turns out they were both professors at the university, one was a lecturer on art history and theory, the other an actual artist. They invited me to a glass of wine and then after for more wine on the patio of one of their apartments. They seemed harmless, and while I don’t usually make a habit of wandering home with strange men, I felt safe so why not?
When we got to the apartment, I could not believe the view of the river. For some reason I had missed the river entirely on my journey that afternoon, so this was for sure a welcomed treat. We had champagne, and peanuts FROM GEORGIA. I had to laugh and think of my stepdad as I opened shell after shell.
Our conversation was lively and I was glad I was there. After an hour or so, I needed to head back to my hotel and they offered to walk me which I accepted. Maybe they do know something about hospitality around here after all.
My meal was fine. Nothing spectacular. As I was finishing, the two elderly men beside me wanted to chat. It turns out they were both professors at the university, one was a lecturer on art history and theory, the other an actual artist. They invited me to a glass of wine and then after for more wine on the patio of one of their apartments. They seemed harmless, and while I don’t usually make a habit of wandering home with strange men, I felt safe so why not?
When we got to the apartment, I could not believe the view of the river. For some reason I had missed the river entirely on my journey that afternoon, so this was for sure a welcomed treat. We had champagne, and peanuts FROM GEORGIA. I had to laugh and think of my stepdad as I opened shell after shell.
Our conversation was lively and I was glad I was there. After an hour or so, I needed to head back to my hotel and they offered to walk me which I accepted. Maybe they do know something about hospitality around here after all.
Just because I don't speak Italian, doesn't make me a Moron...
When I returned to my hotel to check in to my room in the MAIN hotel, the reception desk wanted to make sure I understood that the room I was getting was a BETTER room than I had reserved because they had no other rooms available in this building. She wanted to make sure that I knew not to expect such grandeur in other cities and hotels where I stayed. Come on, lady. I am no idiot.
She repeated this four times. I was aware of this way before she said it once.
She repeated this four times. I was aware of this way before she said it once.
Venturing to Verona
From Venice, I was headed to Verona. The iteniary made sense and was recommended by my guidebook. I knew little of what to see in Verona besides the Romeo & Juliet house, but I figured there was something more or else why would it he listed in the guidebook?
Checking into my hotel was quite a chore. Hospitality in Italy was not the best as I had learned previously, and Verona was no improvement. The hotel I had chosen was right by the old gate to the city and near the arena. That was the sole reason I had chosen it, and I am sure the reason many people selected it. However, the reception desk thought I would be happy in a room 500 meters away on some back alley where I had to be driven in a golf cart. Nope. Sorry people, you better get this figured out snappy!
Complaining got me the response I wanted, and while my room was not ready, I could have lunch and see the sites and then get to my room.
I had a quick salad and then high-tailed it to the city center to take in the town and go meet Juliet. The darkening sky told me my time was limited.
Checking into my hotel was quite a chore. Hospitality in Italy was not the best as I had learned previously, and Verona was no improvement. The hotel I had chosen was right by the old gate to the city and near the arena. That was the sole reason I had chosen it, and I am sure the reason many people selected it. However, the reception desk thought I would be happy in a room 500 meters away on some back alley where I had to be driven in a golf cart. Nope. Sorry people, you better get this figured out snappy!
Complaining got me the response I wanted, and while my room was not ready, I could have lunch and see the sites and then get to my room.
I had a quick salad and then high-tailed it to the city center to take in the town and go meet Juliet. The darkening sky told me my time was limited.
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