Fact number one. Italians do wear togas. Frequently. Ok, maybe not... but they are quite fashionable, pulling out the scarves and tobaggins all the time.
Two. Especially in big cities, the Italians love their motor scooters/bikes. They fit in narrow streets, evade pedestrians, and are much cheaper to power than cars.
Three. The broad countryside is dotted with umbrella pines, olive trees, and cyprus; otherwise it's open, rolling, and golden. Beautiful!
Four. Almost everyone speaks some English. sigh... Nonetheless, my Italian vocab now includes great words such as grazie (thank you), pane (bread), uscita (exit), and olio (oil).
Five. The food here is as good as its reputation... and better. The handmade pasta (gnocchi, ravioli, spaghetti, conchiglia, etc), pesto, bread, pastries (occohio di bue, canolli, nutella pies, chocolate dipped anything), and gelato are glorious. We ate more than our share :-)
Six. Public toilets typically have an ante chamber with a sink. A place for people to queue? Dunno.
Seven. An unreasonable amount of good art resides here. Period.
Eight. If you can't build it in marble or brick, why build it?
Eight-a. If you build something it WILL be buried. It will be built over. Maybe twice. If you're lucky, it will then be unearthed.
Nine. Italians are extremely friendly, even if they don't always show it. Grazie goes a long way.
Ten. As a tourist, someone WILL try to sell you a laser pointer, an umbrella, a cheap purse, a scarf, a light up toy helicopter, or a squishy goo ball on the streets. Sometimes the same item by two people within 50 feet of each other. No time of day is safe.
...And a few things I have learned about us...
Fact number one. Italian has a million different sounds for c, cc, ci, ce, ca, etc. We have spent a week screwing up words like 'sausicce' and 'Lucca.'
Two. Tyler has a thing about setting off alarms in museums. It happened twice. (The second time happened here in Florence; see next blog.)
Three. Rachael has a thing against cheap Italian leather... but 5 Euro jeans are ok.
Four. I ate everything. Always. Time to get back to the dance floor...
Five. Tyler apparently can't manage to go through doors the correct direction, inevitably pulling everytime it should be a push and vice versa.
Six. Upon first showing me a famous work of art, it is apparently
likely that I will not only imitate the work of art, but I'll imitate it all across town in front of other masterful works of art. See: 'Discobolus' by Myron 460 BC.
Seven. Rachael packed a battery powered string of Christmas lights. Guess what was blinking merrily through a backpack as it came down the luggage carosel? The most festive luggage in Rome.
Eight. I like stairs and walking. In 'excess.' Yup, I'm doing a good job making sure T and R get their daily exercise. Today I even got them to rent bikes for an hour with me. Tyler < thrilled.
Nine. In addition to foccacia-gate, we have also failed to figure out D.O.P. It is written on all cheese and we have no idea what it means, until now: Denominazione di Origine Protetta. This apparently means that certain products (parmagian, proscuitto di parma, balsamico di Modena, etc) may only come from a specific city in order to be authentic. Dan di USA, D.O.P.
Ten. The world didn't end, in spite of the fact that we rented a car, drove to Pisa, Lucca, and Siena, all on the power of a four function calculator. Well, almost. Looks like I'm off to Paris tomorrow after all!
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