Cars!

This one is for the guys! It all started when I saw a Lamborghini in downtown Milano. I heard it before I saw it. I brought my camera up in anticipation of seeing something cool. It had a low rumble like a Mustang, but looked like a Bat-Mobile. I snapped a photo having no idea what it was. By the way, for you Lamborghini buffs, this is the new color . . . a matt black.

This car, the Maserati, was a surprise to me. I thought it would be more race car-like, but it’s actually sort of elegant. I saw one illegally parked on the sidewalk in front of the Armani Hotel. Gianluca said it was probably the owner or CEO of the hotel. He could afford the ticket J

The Ferraris are bright red at the store, but they are different colors elsewhere. Black is the most common here. The red one still garnered the attention of the guys though.

Porsches are not as common here as they are in the US, so they draw some attention.

A beautiful car caught my attention that I couldn’t identify. It turns out it was a Bentley . . . the sports edition.

All this being said, the Italians’ really love the traditional American cars. Especially the Camaro. It made me laugh when everybody’s heads turned to catch a glimpse of a car. I stopped scrambling for my camera when I realized it was a Range Rover. I went into a clothing store in the fashion district and they had the Duke’s of Hazard’s car there. People were posing for photos with it. I showed the picture to Egle’s father and he immediately said “Ah, the General  Lee”.

Back to Milan

I sit here rocking gently back and forth on the speed train from Venezia to Milano thinking back on my impressions of Venice. Thousands of little streets are lined with shops selling Burano lace, Murano glass, Venetian Carnevale masks, fashion boutiques by Gucci, Prada, Georgio Armani, Brunello Cucinelli, Pucci, Puma, Rayban Sunglasses, and of course the Ferrari store (which is odd considering there are no cars). I guess I didn’t think I’d see those types of stores on this 2000 year old island community.

During the day when the cruise ships spill out their passengers the southern edge of the island is packed with tourists near San Marco. All you have to do is walk three or four streets inland and enjoy the cool stone walls towering six stories above, providing shade and quiet. It is easy to sit and enjoy the services provided with a happy smile, but eventually you have to ask yourself, “How do they do it?” Not just being nice to up to 150,000 visitors a day, but the sheer logistics of it all!

There is not a car anywhere on the island. None. Everything has to be delivered by boat and then hand carted in. Up over bridges, through congested alleys, and up stairs. Because everything on the island is basically a national monument, it is under continuous renovation and maintenance. The average Venetian can’t afford to live there anymore because of prices and difficulty just getting a new set of curtains.

Joe and I went to the hospital to check it out. It was part of a huge church on the north side of the island. As we stood admiring the canal-side of the hospital, a medic team pulled up in an ambulance. That’s when we noticed all of the ambulances lined up in the canal. That began a quest to see the other side of Venetian life. The nuts and bolts, you might say.

A Home Depot-like shop near the lagoon had a large upside down track with a pallet hanging from it. A flurry of boats waited in line to get their construction material. They slide under the outgoing pallet and either take the whole pallet into their boat, or they offload what they need. It was incredibly efficient.

A little further down a master craftsman was putting the finishing touches on a sleek wood boat.

 

We decided to sit at a waterfront café and watch the hustle and bustle. A large four lane water highway is intersected by several other passages coming from outer islands. Whenever an ambulance would come roaring out of the hospital, all boats would pull over to their right side. Coca Cola boats, produce boats, water taxies, ferries, police, construction, furniture, etc. . . all vie for space. Teachers march their classes of elementary school children on and off the water busses.

Venice is much more than lace and Gucci.

Venezia!

 

This has been on my bucket list for a long time. I was afraid I’d be disappointed because I’d built it up too much in my mind. In some ways I guess that is true . . . for example I have seen the buildings at the water’s edge in a lot of movies. I have seen gondoliers taking guests for a ride.

However, now I’ve seen massive thousand year old palaces of some of the wealthiest merchants of the ancient world. Castles groaning under the weight of marble floors, pillars, and facades. Like elderly dignitaries leaning on each other while the young look on. The famous Rialto Bridge looks both tired and bored with its job.

I’ve received a wink from a handsome Italian man as he dips his oar in the silky water. The striped shirt and cheeky grin is the standard uniform of the gondolier. Occasionally you’ll see one chatting on his cell phone. A group of young Italians may go by too fast in their boat causing a wake. The gondolier will steady the gondola with his oar while glaring at the rowdy kids. At the main loading docks by the Duomo, the crowds of Japanese tourists will nimbly trot down the steps and jump into the gondola when beckoned by the gondolier.

The days are equally split up between walking, shopping, eating, and of course drinking. Now wait a minute . . . I know what you are thinking! We drink other things besides wine. About every two hours we stop for a quick shot of espresso called café, or café with steamed milk called macchiato. About every three hours we stop for a beer and a glass of Italian wine (lighter in alcohol). Late afternoons are spent on our patio sipping good wine, and eating cheese and salami from the little grocery store. We opened a bottle of Modus Operandi from home (2009 Petite Syrah). The landlady came out on the patio to say hello and stayed for an hour sipping our wine. I learned a new Italian word, “Fuertisimo!”, very strongJ

Egle and I were sitting out here the other day when we heard a man begin to sing a traditional love song. His voice was amazing. We leaned over the balcony to see who was singing and saw a waiter beneath us. He sang while he set the tables for the evening. When he finished, Egle and I called out, “Bravo!!” and clapped our hands. He was startled to say the least. His coworkers came out and looked up. They laughed, patted his back and went back to work.

Last night we all walked to the other side of the island and found a pizzeria Gianluca had heard about. It was worth it, but it brings me to an interesting subject. Pizza. Firstly, I was told at home pizza didn’t come from Italy. Here, I have been firmly told that pizza originated in Naples. Secondly, at a snack bar you can get a piece of pizza, but at a restaurant you get the whole pizza. Let me clarify, each person gets a whole pizza. What we would call a medium pizza is a single serving here. Thirdly, the American pizza is disgusting! One has red sauce and a pile of french-fries on it, and the other has those floppy pink hot dogs sliced up on it.

We’ve heard about the regular flooding of San Marcus Piazza, and I have to admit I kinda wanted to see it, without the inconvenience of course. Well yesterday I got my wish. The high tide forced the water up through the ancient cisterns creating giant puddles. It was just enough to give you an idea of the flood without having to wade through knee deep water.

We escorted Gianluca and Egle half-way to the train station via twenty bridges and a taxi-gondola, and waved goodbye. We are now on our own. We eventually found our way back to the B&B. Tomorrow night we must find the train station and hopefully get on the right one to take us back to Milan.

Arrivederci!

Our New Home

Italy Blog

We left Sacramento at 6 in the morning on Thursday, and arrived in Milan the next day at 10 Friday morning. Intellectually I understand a nine hour time difference. Emotionally I don’t understand it really, especially when my internal clock is going hay-wire. I don’t know how our friends, Josiah and Heidi cart their four children back-and-forth to India! It was all worth it when we saw our friends Gianluca and Egle waiting for us at the airport.

They whisked us off on our next adventure. They live on the sixth floor of a condominium complex. The process of getting into the complex is a bit complicated with all of the different keys. And the elevator is an older style we’ve never used before. The view is great, and Egle has turned their little balcony into a garden. She whipped up a meal for us before going back to work. Pasta with her father’s homemade marinara, sformato ( a quiche with filo dough), and a salad. I was so full I thought I’d never eat again . . . until Gianluca mentioned Gelato. They left us with a set of keys and directions to the gelato shop (they had a concert to go to). We accidentally went to the wrong floor. Here we are trying to open this door, and it won’t open. So we try the key, but that didn’t work either. Finally a man comes around the corner and asks us if we need the dentista? We finally figured out we were on the wrong floor and were trying to break into the dentist’s home.

Saturday morning we took the subway, another first for us, to downtown Milan. First a quick cup of café macchiato, then we set off to see the city. Milan is different than I expected. I thought it was more industrial, but it has an ancient history as the capital of the Roman Empire at one time. Leonardo Da Vinci lived here and painted The Last Supper. Napoleon was crowned king here in Milan. Some of the city plazas date back to medieval times.

Naturally the most astounding site is the Duomo, the Cathedral. It is a meant to be a Gothic style, but being built over a five-hundred year period can influence the design. Our hostess, Egle is an architect. She has given us great insight. Inside the Duomo is a grotesque sculpture of San Gerolamo. He was skinned alive for his faith . . . he stands there with his skin drapped over his shoulders like a fashionable Italian scarf.

We walked until my legs felt like they were going to fall off. Lunch was a deep-fried fried ham and cheese sandwich at the popular street-side restaurant, Luini’s. They have been feeding the masses since 1888. We ended the evening at a small restaurant where, believe it or not we ordered a Tex-Mex hamburger!

The next day we went to Mass in Monza at their Duomo. More  coffee, pizza, beer, wine. Then Gianluca and Egle took us to her public high school. It is the former villa of the last king of Italy, Umberto the First. He gave it to the community upon his death. The grounds are massive and lush reminding me of the movie ‘Count of Monte Cristo’ or ‘Pride and Prejudice’. It had a lake for fishing, an area for hunting stocked game. We went back to the Duomo and had a private viewing of one of the most important church relics in the world, the coronation crown for the kings and emperors of Rome and Italy. It has the nail used to crucify Jesus imbedded into the interior rim of the crown. The outer side is a crude gold band embedded with semi-precious stones, such as amethyst . It was originally the crown of Constantine in the sixth century.

We came home and drank more wine, ate more food, and watched ‘The Tourist’ to get us in the mood for Venice. Now I am trying to stay focused on writing as we rocket through the valley leading to Venice. We just passed Lake Garda and Verona (famous for the story of Romeo and Juliet). It is overcast, drizzling and beautiful. Gianluca and Egle have been amazing hosts. We are going to have our work cut out for us when they come stay with us!

Italy, Here We Come!

When we were in the Bahamas last October, we met some amazing people. I guess because of Hurricane Sandy, we bonded in a special way. Whatever the case may be, we connected with a delightful young couple from Milan, Italy. We invited them to come to California to stay with us! They invited us to come to Milan to stay with them!

I began thinking “Where will we go for our vacation this year? It must be special because it is a special year for us.” I turn 50, Joey turns 55, and it is our 25th wedding anniversary. What is more special than Italy?

Gianluca and Egle wrote to us and asked where our next Dashing Bold Adventure would be. I answered “Funny you should ask . . . We want to come see you!” In true Italian style they responded with enthusiasm and grace. We leave Thursday to spend 2 weeks with them in their home in Milan. We have plans for Venice, Barolo, and the Dolomites.

Veronica from Florence is coming up one weekend to sleep on the couch and go wine tasting with us. We can’t wait to see her.

So stay tuned for our next adventure.