When the Moon Hits Your Eye Like a Big Pizza Pie...

Wow. It has been a very busy past few weeks! I went to Florence to meet my sisters, Brook and Hunter, and their husbands, Tom and Cliff, on Thursday, Feb. 7. After a few days of whatever Europe's version of "Montezuma's revenge" is, everyone was feeling better and able to enjoy the trip. In our rental VW, we trekked up to our apartment up in Chianti, close to Florence and Siena, with the worst GPS system known to man. After a few million trips around each roundabout, we found it. It was a gorgeous place. We went to a wine tasting place in the closest town, Greve, where you put any amount of money on a card and walk around and try a sip of wine ranging from 60 cents to a lot more than I could ever appreciate wine. We, in tow with RIck Steves' guide books for each of us, went in to Florence on Saturday and went to the Uffizi, Duomo, Accademia and all the other necessary places. Just in case, the Uffizi has the cleanest restroom in Italy. It might be worth the trip. Our favorite thing about Florence by far was Michelangelo's David statue. It was incredible. We couldn't get over how huge it was. It is 14 feet on a 8 or so foot stand. It towers over everything in the Accademia and was absolutely breath-taking. The next day we went to Siena which had the most beautiful square, the Piazza dell Campo, I've ever seen. We all agreed we liked Siena better because it is a very small city, although it was once one of the most powerful in the world. It never recovered from the black plague and its population, 60,000, has changed little since. The Duomo here was insanely beautiful as well. Siena just had an intimate feel to it. We drove to the Cinque Terra (Five Lands) on Monday and stayed in Monterossa, the last of the five towns. It made me miss the beach so much! The weather was gorgeous there. The towns were empty and mostly closed down, except for a "typical American bar" and a few restaurants all named something "Ciak." CIak was the chef, and apparently a very important man.
On Tuesday, misled by our dear friend "Rick," we set out for a nice, relaxing hike to the other four towns. Rick says his son has the record for the fastest hike, but it should only take about four hours for the rest of us. After climbing a staircase up the side of a mountain for an hour, we were all pretty sure we were near our deaths, and it was probably so. Once we made it to the second town, we ate, drank and decided to take the train to the third town or there was no hope. After we got to the third, we quickly decided to skip it, since it was a 15 minute climb up a single staircase, and walked to the next two towns with a little less intense topography. It was a very romantic place and I would love love love to go back. Next time I'll train before the hike. We headed to Verona, back to my current home, for laundry and delivery pizza. They got to have a little taste of the wee little monster bouncing off of the walls. Thursday was Valentine's Day ate immense amounts of gnocchi at Nonna Francesca's, and were force fed grappa, limoncello, vino, etc. for lunch. After piling in my bed for a much needed break, we walked around the city then met Silvia and some of her friends for dinner. We, by an off shot chance and a lot of Silvia throwing out the "the Americans really want some risotto and yours is the best" card, we got to eat at the Bottega di Vino, which has a location in New York as well. They put us in the wine cellar all by ourselves. The building was from the 1500s and the wine cellar was lined with Roman arches stacked with 2,000 labels of wine and over 30,000 bottles. The owner no doubt thought we must be important to be down there and spent the next hour at least telling us stories about calling out Robert DeNiro claiming to be Italian by eating Polenta, when he is from Sicily which doesn't have polenta. He talked about Hilary Clinton and a bunch other famous people he has in his restaurants, including us. Friday we headed to Venice for the weekend. As always it was very romantic and we ate great seafood, but it was freezing. They flew out Monday and Wednesday I left for Ariccia...
John Anderson and I went to Amsterdam for a few days. We flew out Thursday morning from Rome, so I took the six hour train to Rome Wednesday then another train from Rome to Ariccia where he and Rachel are studying and stealthily snuck into their dorm. Thursday morning I learned about a little thing called karma. Walking through the train station, John took a step in the wrong direction and face planted in the train tracks. His glasses flew off, his backpack over head, and it could only have been more dramatic if a train had been inches away from him. As I heard the "O Madonna! Mama Mia!" cries, I helped him off the tracks, and after realizing he was OK, I fought back laughter with all my might...to no avail. This would continue to be funny until that night I had my own dramatic crash and I plowed my rented back into a pole and skidded into a brick wall at full speed, not including the many crashes into parked bikes because I couldn't figure out the breaks. Anyway, John and I hobbled through Amsterdam for the next few days, but loved every second of our trip. The city is so pretty and the people who live there love it. We met up with an old Dothan friend, Damion Heersink, and he showed us around and gave us the full story of everything in the city. We went to the Van Gogh museum, had to experience some techno clubs and a stroll through the Red Light District. It was such an interesting place. Amsterdam is definitely one of my favorite cities in the world. On Sunday, of course I get the most intense security check of my life in the airport, the only person out of all four lines to get stopped at all. The detergent in my bag, as I have become a vagabond and do laundry in the sink, tipped them off to think I had cocaine, of course. After my mini contact solution bottle was apprehended and the drug dog had not eaten me alive, we were able to head back. Sunday afternoon, finally back in Verona, Doug had surprised me for Valentine's Day with a trip over for a few days. Crazy grandma Nonna Fracesca is back at it again. She and her secret boyfriend of 25+ years, Gigi, showed up at the train station with a picture of him in just his speedo, or what we like to call them, man panties. She walked around the station asking if anyone had seen these two Americans in McDonalds or wherever Americans might hang out. I'm sure she was disappointed when she learned he actually wears clothes.
With a few trips to the pool and Doug training with some Italian people he didn't come close to understanding, we still had a little time to visit. We stayed in Verona for one full day and went to Venice for the next two. In Venice we went to San Marco's Basilica, which I find probably the most beautiful in Italy, Doge's Palace, had dinner at the Rialto Bridge and did everything else you are suppose to do in Venice. We opted to let the water bus ride back to the airport count as the romantic gondola ride, as the 20 minute gondola rides are 80€ or so. The last night we were in Venice we went to go to see Vivaldi's Four Seasons at the theatre. Of course, Doug and I would ever only make it to see Vivaldi's three seasons, as we are late to everything we do. Unfortunately, the theatre was full, so we ran to another. Closed. We found a third with people pouring into it. We found our way up there, squeezed in and heard only talking. After a few evil eyes thrown back and forth to others trying to fit in, Doug being the only one who could see, realized there were no instruments. After I tried to translate a few words and realized some talk of improving the school systems was going on, we realized we were stuck in the town hall meeting. All dressed up and nowhere to go. As typical as that was for us, we just laughed it off and went to the bar. After and short trip, he's back in the US, and I am in Verona, just in time for the monstrosity's arrival from Napoli, where she has been for two weeks. She got home last night and woke up sick again today. Back in the swing of things. My mom comes next week for a few days and I am really excited about that! This might be the longest blog ever written.

Buon Giorno

I've met a Mario, a Luigi and a Fabio. My trip is complete and I can come home now. Things are going well. I've been here a little over a month and have settled in with ol' Nonna and the crazy child pretty well. Nonna Francesca and I have our disagreements, but she has finally quit microwaving my cereal in the morning and has come to terms being repulsed by the fact I would rather have cold milk. Another example, if she offers me a 7th piece of chocolate and I say I don't care for any more, she says I must be getting sick or that I must be heartbroken because you should always want more chocolate. If I don't add sugar to my coffee, I am determined to get liver cancer and die because that's what happens if you drink black coffee. When I come home from running and just want water, she freaks out because my face is all red and if I don't drink a juice box RIGHT NOW I am going to get sick and die. But other than that, we are getting along just fine. Viola has been home for the past two weeks, with what we found out what nothing short of Scarlet Fever. Awesome for the rest of us. We fought frequently over taking medicine and she is a big fan of not wanting to change her diaper, so that makes for some afternoon fun. I remember when I lived in Spain and it used to drive me crazy that the only thing people knew about Alabama was Lynard Skynard and would always break into Sweet Home Alabama, those being the only three words anyone knew, of course. Now, what I would give to go back to those days. Here I get a world of horribly allusions, like Forrest Gump and Greenbow, which of course doesn't even exist. I get asked about rodeos and banjos and babies in bars and churning butter and the like. Silvia said many people warned her not to hire me because I was from Alabama. It's far worse than Lynard Skynard. I like the people who think Alabama is in New York (like Nonna at the beginning). We get along just great. One of Silvia's friends has a 3-year-old named Emma. When Katia told her I was American, Emma assured her mom she could speak English and could help me. When I said nice to meet you, she just replied with "1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9, and 10 and Prrrrrease and Tank you." Probably far better than my Italian. I've learned a lot, but it's things like "spit out your bubble gum," "hold my hand, we are crossing the street," "number 1 or number 2?" or "back up, you are too close to the TV." Other than that, I get pretty lost.
Everyday is about the same. I walk past the bakery and try to keep myself from going in, I take a 15 minute bus ride to the closest mailbox for international mail, tell Nonna goodbye and she goes to her DAILY doctors appointments...every day. No lie. I try to go into any of the "Open 24 hour" stores that are of course closed for afternoon naps and are maybe open a total of 6 hours a day. The inconvenience takes a while to get used to, but becomes pretty normal after a while. You aren't allowed to flush the toilet or take a shower after 11 p.m. and you can't vacuum or listen to music after those times or between 12:30 and 3. People need their naps. I am a big fan of napping, so no problem with me. My sisters and brothers in law come tomorrow and I'm going to meet them in Florence tomorrow afternoon! I'm really excited to see them and to travel around a see a lot of Italy.

Life in Verona

I'm alive and well. Silvia, the mom, is great and has been showing me around a lot since i got here. Her English is pretty good, too which is nice. I'm living with the grandmother who speaks one word of English..."OK." So we do a lot of staring at each other and laughing because all our efforts are completely futile. The bambina, Viola, is definitely in the full swing of her terrible twos. She loves screaming and crying and pitching fits. She also might be the cutest thing I've ever seen. I'm sure it's hard for her that some really tall, strange looking American girl has shown up in her life and wants to take her home with her. The grandmothers have been helping me pick her up from school. I wondered why she is always so hyper, even after a long day at school (8-4) and playing all afternoon after that. Yesterday I realized why. Grandma Francesca and I picked her up from school yesterday and took her home to play. Play we did not. Instead she had an ESPRESSO with 4 scoops of sugar, a cookie, and a juice box. After she finished this, she was trying to spoon plain sugar in her cup and I stopped her. They said, "No, va benne," and let her do it. So after another five scoops of sugar, I realized where the energy comes from. It's exhausting just to watch. Other than that, things are good. It's cold here, but I really like Verona. The people are very nice and I certainly fit in better here than I did in Spain. There are so many blond, fair skinned people here! Who would have thought? They all say, "Wow, she looks so American," whatever that means. No one here speaks English, but Silvia has been going out of her way to take me to hang out with people she knows who speak English and I'm getting pretty fluent in gesticulations. I have been relying on the bus system, since I still don't know how to drive a stick and because they drive like bats out of hell here and I'm terrified. They are taking me to learn tomorrow at the soccer stadium by our house. We will see how that goes. The best thing I've seen since I got here was the insane amounts of churches, that when aren't conducting services, open up as pizzerias! neon lights and all. It's crazy. I haven't run into Romeo or Juliet yet, but I'll let you know. My Italian has gotten...better...I know about 20 words now. Practically fluent.

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