Oh, Rome you are such a bad boy. Just when I was ready to leave you, you show me a side of you I haven't seen. It was a great last day together. You really are a tease.
I thought the day was going to be like the rest of my time with Rome - always leaving me wanting more. But today he came through. It was very pleasureable. The sun came out around 11am, just when I came into the heart of the city. My spirits immediately lifted. Rome and I had the energy of young lovers. We went back to San Crispino for whiskey and rum chocolate gelato. Delicious. Then he showed me a new place - a coffee shop where they roast their own coffee. It's right by the Pantheon and dates back to when this area was licensed to roast coffee beans. Rome introduced me to a drink the locals get - granita di caffe con panna (coffee slush with cream).
My friend Jeff arranged for me to take the Offical underground/ruins/archelogical/necropolis tour; more easily stated the Italian way, Ufficio Scavi. Usually one has to book this tour a good week in advance. Jeff called me this morning to tell me he put me in the 3pm tour. But not having an offical entry ticket, I was going to have to get past the Swiss Guard and to the Ufficio Scavi office where I should be able to buy the ticket. He suggested that I follow the group in and try to avoid talking to the Swiss Guard. What he didn't tell me was that the Basilica was closed today. They weren't letting anyone near St. Peter's. So, I talked my way past the first gates by saying that I wanted to go to the Posta Vaticana (the post office of the Vatican City). Even though every one else was being pushed back and scolded, I got through. Then I went to the guards that stand where people exit the Basilica. They kept telling me that everything was closed and on tours were going on. I explained that my friend, a priest at the American College in the Vatican City placed me on the Scavi tour. They said there are no Scavi tours. Humph!? I knew Jeff wouldn't do that to me, but I wasn't so sure about Rome. So, I went in to the post office to hang out for a bit - it was only 2:30 - and try to figure out how to get past them. Now, you must understand that I am trying to SNEEK INTO THE VATICAN CITY. When I went back outside, the guards were gone, but that left the Swiss Guard. These guys are serious, have crazy uniforms, are really Swiss, and have been doing this job for a long time! Ok, here we go.
I approached the Swiss Guard, who was currently turning away a nun!, with a piece of paper in my hand. It was just my little note that I made about the time and place of the tour. I told the Swiss Guard that my priest friend put my name on the Scavi tour list, but my offical ticket is at the Scavi Office. I pointed to my instructions on my little note paper. He asked for my ticket/pass. I explained again. (There never was any ticket or pass, but Jeff told me others would have one.) He asked where my friend was, inside or out. He apparently thought I was meeting Jeff. Well, of course I told him that he was in his office which was conveniently through the arch behind the Guard. Voila! He let me pass and even told me where to go. Ha! I only got about fifty feet before another guard stopped me. But I told him that " the Swiss Guard told me that the Ufficio Scavi office is just up there." He also gave me directions and waved me on. Yea!
When I got to the office there was a moment of panic b/c I thought Jeff said it was under his name, but in fact it was mine. I paid and was good to go. Just had to wait for the docent. The tour is only for 12-15 people. Nice.
Best thing anyone could ever do in Rome!!! There is so much information that I will have to say if you ever go to Rome, and are remotely interested in archeology, history, christianity, the Vatican or all of them, you MUST plan to do this tour. We learned about 2000 years of pagan graves, popes, St. Peter the apostle and first pope, and St. Peter's the first and second basilicas, as well as the Vatican hill and valley which name originally had nothing to do with the catholic church. We went two stories under the alter and nave of the basilica and saw a 2000+ year old necropolis (literally city of the dead) and St. Peter's bones. You do not see this on the Popes' tombs tour! OMG, OMG, OMG. And I mean that literally. Wow. I will do this again - anytime, everytime! I visit Rome.
So, Rome, you won me back. You are a sly Italian lover. I should never have doubted you.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Italian Lover
More about St. Francesco of Assisi is going to have to wait.
When I first met Rome, he swept me off my feet. All charm, 70 degree weather, sunshine, good company, good food, showed me all the sites. I went for him hook, line and sinker. Well, it's been 2 1/2 years and Rome is showing himself to be a bit of a cad. He's toying with me, leading me on. On my first day back he took me to our favorite gelato place. We laughed, talked to other tourists and told them about San Crispino's gelato; we sneeked in to the the popes' tombs at St. Peter's; we met some young American priests who know my freind Jeff. But Rome was cloudy and a little stand-offish.
On day two, Rome fooled me. I went to the Forum only to find it isn't free anymore and you can't see it without buying a ticket for the Coloseum and Palatine Hill. Well I didn't have that kind of time or money and he knew it. He wasn't goingto make me late for my lunch with Jeff. So, I left.
Rome was gracious at lunch with Jeff. We had a really nice time and the day warmed up. That evening we shared a fun time at the Carosel and took lots of pictures. Then we enjoyed a Turkish bath and prosecco on the balcony.
So, imagine my surprise this morning when Rome jilted me for the Pope. We had a meeting planned to climb St. Peter's coppula, but Rome decided to spend the morning with Benedict instead. I couldn't even view the coppula on my own. Well, two can play that game.
I ran to Spoleto. He's quiet, clean, has that small town kind of charm, is friendly if a little boring. If all the new construction says anything, he is good with his hands, and he let's me talk to other guys. He's warm and has beautiful views.
I'm heading back to Rome tonight. We'll see what he has to say for himself and what he is planning for my last day. He'll have to work hard if he wants me back. I'm not sure if it's possible. We may just have to be friends. Anyway, there's always Sorrento - and Luigi!
When I first met Rome, he swept me off my feet. All charm, 70 degree weather, sunshine, good company, good food, showed me all the sites. I went for him hook, line and sinker. Well, it's been 2 1/2 years and Rome is showing himself to be a bit of a cad. He's toying with me, leading me on. On my first day back he took me to our favorite gelato place. We laughed, talked to other tourists and told them about San Crispino's gelato; we sneeked in to the the popes' tombs at St. Peter's; we met some young American priests who know my freind Jeff. But Rome was cloudy and a little stand-offish.
On day two, Rome fooled me. I went to the Forum only to find it isn't free anymore and you can't see it without buying a ticket for the Coloseum and Palatine Hill. Well I didn't have that kind of time or money and he knew it. He wasn't goingto make me late for my lunch with Jeff. So, I left.
Rome was gracious at lunch with Jeff. We had a really nice time and the day warmed up. That evening we shared a fun time at the Carosel and took lots of pictures. Then we enjoyed a Turkish bath and prosecco on the balcony.
So, imagine my surprise this morning when Rome jilted me for the Pope. We had a meeting planned to climb St. Peter's coppula, but Rome decided to spend the morning with Benedict instead. I couldn't even view the coppula on my own. Well, two can play that game.
I ran to Spoleto. He's quiet, clean, has that small town kind of charm, is friendly if a little boring. If all the new construction says anything, he is good with his hands, and he let's me talk to other guys. He's warm and has beautiful views.
I'm heading back to Rome tonight. We'll see what he has to say for himself and what he is planning for my last day. He'll have to work hard if he wants me back. I'm not sure if it's possible. We may just have to be friends. Anyway, there's always Sorrento - and Luigi!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
What's up with the water works?
Leaving Sorrento was a sad affair. I took one last walk to the cliff and view of the bay before leaving. And then I cried. What up? It reminded me a bit of when I got to Interlaken, Austria years ago. I was tired, a bit stressed, loved the city and the view was spectacular. I'm realizing that I love that size city. You can feel like you are just one of the locals. In Sorrento I already established my local morning espresso bar... me "Buon giorno signore, uno cappuccino, par favore." them, "Buon giorno, singnora." ... drink... me "Ciao, grazie." Simple and effective. My day always started right from there.
On to Assisi.
I decided for a change of pace that I'd try staying at a monastery. (This is the "pray" part of my journey aparently.) Didn't get in until dark. The train station made Assisi seem like a ghost town. This also reminded me of Interlaken, Austria, as I arrived there after midnight and it was strangely quite. I took a cab because I didn't have the energy to figure out the bus and mess with my bags. Ha! Every three seconds the meter increased 5 cents. That's about 8 US cents. For a seven minute drive, I paid $20. Crazy.
My room at the monastery was as you would assume: no pictures, no TV, no hairdryer, no phone, not a single luxury. The view was wonderful, as were the windows and the toilet paper! That in itself made up for the teensy-weensy shower. The B&B part of the monastery is not their first priority, so there is no conceirge, no internet, no daily maid service. I came for the experience, if you are wondering. My single bed had a warm quilt and extra wool blanket, which I needed. They offered a simple breakfast and very surprisingly, a bar - not just espresso bar either. It was put to use too. I expected a monastery to be quiet and peaceful, but this is Italy. There were loud goings-on every night. I was trying to figure out who the heck was making all the noise. It wasn't the priests. I did hear them singing my first night there. That was so worth it. As best I could tell, people came to hang out at here. Most of the noise-makers got in their cars to leave. What a life when the monastery is the local hang-out.
I cannot possible say enough about Assisi. Beautiful, spiritual, historic... wonderful. The whole thing (not where I was at the train station) is on a hill inside the old city walls. Again, I started tearing up the moment I crested the hill and came through one of the huge gates. Unlike Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast, Assisi is all one color - stone. A local artists told me that there are over one hundred churches within the city walls. This place isn't big, but some of the churches are huge. The Basilica of St. Francis of course is the money maker. It's the most beautiful church I've seen outside of St. Peter's in the Vatican. More about what a cool dude St. Francesco (literally, Frenchy) was when I get a chance to write again.
On to Assisi.
I decided for a change of pace that I'd try staying at a monastery. (This is the "pray" part of my journey aparently.) Didn't get in until dark. The train station made Assisi seem like a ghost town. This also reminded me of Interlaken, Austria, as I arrived there after midnight and it was strangely quite. I took a cab because I didn't have the energy to figure out the bus and mess with my bags. Ha! Every three seconds the meter increased 5 cents. That's about 8 US cents. For a seven minute drive, I paid $20. Crazy.
My room at the monastery was as you would assume: no pictures, no TV, no hairdryer, no phone, not a single luxury. The view was wonderful, as were the windows and the toilet paper! That in itself made up for the teensy-weensy shower. The B&B part of the monastery is not their first priority, so there is no conceirge, no internet, no daily maid service. I came for the experience, if you are wondering. My single bed had a warm quilt and extra wool blanket, which I needed. They offered a simple breakfast and very surprisingly, a bar - not just espresso bar either. It was put to use too. I expected a monastery to be quiet and peaceful, but this is Italy. There were loud goings-on every night. I was trying to figure out who the heck was making all the noise. It wasn't the priests. I did hear them singing my first night there. That was so worth it. As best I could tell, people came to hang out at here. Most of the noise-makers got in their cars to leave. What a life when the monastery is the local hang-out.
I cannot possible say enough about Assisi. Beautiful, spiritual, historic... wonderful. The whole thing (not where I was at the train station) is on a hill inside the old city walls. Again, I started tearing up the moment I crested the hill and came through one of the huge gates. Unlike Sorrento and the Amalfi Coast, Assisi is all one color - stone. A local artists told me that there are over one hundred churches within the city walls. This place isn't big, but some of the churches are huge. The Basilica of St. Francis of course is the money maker. It's the most beautiful church I've seen outside of St. Peter's in the Vatican. More about what a cool dude St. Francesco (literally, Frenchy) was when I get a chance to write again.
Sex in the city - Part Due
Oh, so finally made it back to a computer. I will try to highlight the last few days.
I did go to Pizzeria da Michele in Naples. And that's all I did in Naples - got off the train, walked a few blocks, almost got pickpocketed (but I hide my valuables well), had a conversation in Italian in which I asked and even understood the answer, got pizza and went back to the train station. Didn't want to see anymore of Naples than that.
The pizza...
I sat by a couple Italian guys, one who is home from his job with Carnival Cruise Line. He said that he never misses a visit home without stopping to eat at da Michele. The Korean guy across from me, told me he was there because his guide book told him to be. :) I think I said that I ordered a mozzorella pizza with extra cheese and a beer. €6,50 is about $10. Not bad. Did I cry over the beauty and simplicity of the pie. No. I must really be a food snob. Every guidebook, food and travel critics, plus "Eat Pray Love" says that's it's the end-all-be-all. The crust was chewy, and my pizza making friend Theresa tells me that's not good. The marinara sauce tasted okay, but maybe a little like it came from a can, and the whole thing was a soupy mess -but I liked that part. The cheese was great and the experience was one in a lifetime. Very good, but not the best I've ever had. Clearly Neopolitans disagree. Oh, well. It was fun.
Hum?... I've been flirted with by the old and the young, but no one my age. I suppose sugar daddy or play thing isn't so bad. On the train to Naples I was called a MILF. There was a group of four 17 and one 19 year old boys. They were all fired up and goofing around. Started to talk to me in Italian after I noticed them looking at my necklace - a Lire (the old form of Italian money). At least I thought they were looking at my necklace. They were cracking me up. Just a bunch of young cuties with their arms wrapped around each other. So funny how you'd never see American boys do that. Once we finally established that I don't speak Italian (but I could understand a lot of what they were saying), they asked me if I knew what a MILF is. I told them that I did know, and NO I am not going to say it. Well we bantered back and forth for a while and when they left, the instigator of the group said "Bye MILF." I'll take it.
I did go to Pizzeria da Michele in Naples. And that's all I did in Naples - got off the train, walked a few blocks, almost got pickpocketed (but I hide my valuables well), had a conversation in Italian in which I asked and even understood the answer, got pizza and went back to the train station. Didn't want to see anymore of Naples than that.
The pizza...
I sat by a couple Italian guys, one who is home from his job with Carnival Cruise Line. He said that he never misses a visit home without stopping to eat at da Michele. The Korean guy across from me, told me he was there because his guide book told him to be. :) I think I said that I ordered a mozzorella pizza with extra cheese and a beer. €6,50 is about $10. Not bad. Did I cry over the beauty and simplicity of the pie. No. I must really be a food snob. Every guidebook, food and travel critics, plus "Eat Pray Love" says that's it's the end-all-be-all. The crust was chewy, and my pizza making friend Theresa tells me that's not good. The marinara sauce tasted okay, but maybe a little like it came from a can, and the whole thing was a soupy mess -but I liked that part. The cheese was great and the experience was one in a lifetime. Very good, but not the best I've ever had. Clearly Neopolitans disagree. Oh, well. It was fun.
Hum?... I've been flirted with by the old and the young, but no one my age. I suppose sugar daddy or play thing isn't so bad. On the train to Naples I was called a MILF. There was a group of four 17 and one 19 year old boys. They were all fired up and goofing around. Started to talk to me in Italian after I noticed them looking at my necklace - a Lire (the old form of Italian money). At least I thought they were looking at my necklace. They were cracking me up. Just a bunch of young cuties with their arms wrapped around each other. So funny how you'd never see American boys do that. Once we finally established that I don't speak Italian (but I could understand a lot of what they were saying), they asked me if I knew what a MILF is. I told them that I did know, and NO I am not going to say it. Well we bantered back and forth for a while and when they left, the instigator of the group said "Bye MILF." I'll take it.
Monday, March 22, 2010
still alive
I'm still here. Sorry for not blogging sooner. the monastery I was at didn't have internet and now I am looking for a place that doesn't charge 60 cents a minute. Promise to write again soon. I've been to Assisi already and am now in Rome. Visiting my friend Jeff tomorrow at the Vatican City. :)
Friday, March 19, 2010
Sex in the City
Oh, get your minds out of the gutter. I've done some eating and praying, but the only loving has been of the beautiful scenery - so far (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
March 18
Visited the ruins of Pompei today. You know, I knew it was big, but holy cow - IT'S HUGE!!!!!! Yes, all those explanation points are needed. My guide book (Rick Steves is the "must have" for Italy travel) says to allow at least three hours, which I did. Secretly though, I was thinking that I'd get bored, tired or both before the three hour mark. I mean, I've seen ruins before and one's imagination can only stretch so far. Picture this wall here and that door there. You get the idea. Well, I had my day planned to see Pompei in the morning then make my way to Naples for a lunch at Antica Pizzeria di Michele. It's been a staple for Neopolitans since 1870, but it's only been this century that the world has come flocking to eat there. It is a must visit for me. More about that in a bit.
Three hours in Pompei turned out to be too little. I arrived before 10am and was shocked to see when my watch read 1pm. It was going to take me a good hour to get to the pizzeria, but I hadn't even seen one sixth of Pompei. Oh, boy. I had to see two more things: the colosseum and the brothel. How telling is it that the brothel turned out to be one of, if not the best preserved building from the eruption. Complete with large stone beds and horribly uncomfortable stone pillows, the brothel also offered artwork for those needing inspiration.
Another hour passed before I left Pompei to catch the train to Naples and pizza heaven. Pizzeria di Michele offers only two pizzas: margherita (with cheese) and marinara (with no cheese but oregano and garlic). It's less than $10 for a whole 14 inch pizza and a beer! I ordered margherita with doppio mozzorella. (I read somewhere to order double cheese.) The place has not changed since it opened. People stand in a line that stretches down the street, waiting for this simple stone-fire-oven baked deliciousness. I got there at 3pm and there was still a line. But, viola! There were just a few of us eating single, so we got seated quickly!
to be continued...
March 18
Visited the ruins of Pompei today. You know, I knew it was big, but holy cow - IT'S HUGE!!!!!! Yes, all those explanation points are needed. My guide book (Rick Steves is the "must have" for Italy travel) says to allow at least three hours, which I did. Secretly though, I was thinking that I'd get bored, tired or both before the three hour mark. I mean, I've seen ruins before and one's imagination can only stretch so far. Picture this wall here and that door there. You get the idea. Well, I had my day planned to see Pompei in the morning then make my way to Naples for a lunch at Antica Pizzeria di Michele. It's been a staple for Neopolitans since 1870, but it's only been this century that the world has come flocking to eat there. It is a must visit for me. More about that in a bit.
Three hours in Pompei turned out to be too little. I arrived before 10am and was shocked to see when my watch read 1pm. It was going to take me a good hour to get to the pizzeria, but I hadn't even seen one sixth of Pompei. Oh, boy. I had to see two more things: the colosseum and the brothel. How telling is it that the brothel turned out to be one of, if not the best preserved building from the eruption. Complete with large stone beds and horribly uncomfortable stone pillows, the brothel also offered artwork for those needing inspiration.
Another hour passed before I left Pompei to catch the train to Naples and pizza heaven. Pizzeria di Michele offers only two pizzas: margherita (with cheese) and marinara (with no cheese but oregano and garlic). It's less than $10 for a whole 14 inch pizza and a beer! I ordered margherita with doppio mozzorella. (I read somewhere to order double cheese.) The place has not changed since it opened. People stand in a line that stretches down the street, waiting for this simple stone-fire-oven baked deliciousness. I got there at 3pm and there was still a line. But, viola! There were just a few of us eating single, so we got seated quickly!
to be continued...
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Ain't no mountain high enough
March 17
You know how Italians speak with there hands. Well, today I saw a group of deaf, or hearing impared, Italians. Just let that sink in for a moment.
At approximately 12:45pm today, I crested the top of Mount Vesuvio. I was joined by two British couples and an American couple. We took the bus up to the 79AD crater, then walked up another intensive 40 minutes to what is now the new top and new crater. Hard to explain, but picture a soup bowl. Okay, that's the enormous gouge that was blown off the top in 79 AD when Pompei and Ercolano were burried. I finally understand the amount of earth and ash that hit the towns at 70 miles per hour and stopped everyone in their tracks. Now, bite off the tip of an ice cream cone and place it upsidedown in the soup bowl. That's the new crater. It's still huge, but nothing like the original. Subsequent eruptions - the most recent in 1944 - have created and heightened this new smaller crater.
On to Pompei ruins tomorrow. I am enjoying Sorrento and this part of Italy so much that I'm staying an extra day. Luigi, who I now have a little crush on, helped me to change my reservations at the monastery in Assisi. Now I can stay to do a few more things :)
You know how Italians speak with there hands. Well, today I saw a group of deaf, or hearing impared, Italians. Just let that sink in for a moment.
At approximately 12:45pm today, I crested the top of Mount Vesuvio. I was joined by two British couples and an American couple. We took the bus up to the 79AD crater, then walked up another intensive 40 minutes to what is now the new top and new crater. Hard to explain, but picture a soup bowl. Okay, that's the enormous gouge that was blown off the top in 79 AD when Pompei and Ercolano were burried. I finally understand the amount of earth and ash that hit the towns at 70 miles per hour and stopped everyone in their tracks. Now, bite off the tip of an ice cream cone and place it upsidedown in the soup bowl. That's the new crater. It's still huge, but nothing like the original. Subsequent eruptions - the most recent in 1944 - have created and heightened this new smaller crater.
On to Pompei ruins tomorrow. I am enjoying Sorrento and this part of Italy so much that I'm staying an extra day. Luigi, who I now have a little crush on, helped me to change my reservations at the monastery in Assisi. Now I can stay to do a few more things :)
Mafia Wars
The bus ride to Positano consisted of tight turns, narrow scrapes, and breathtaking views - did I mention tight turns? I got off at the second Positano stop; the one that wasn't 700 stairs above the beach- maybe only 200. A young woman from Israel got off with me and we instantly hit it off. Aki(?), "but you can call me Jackie" is fresh from the army and traveling for two months before going to the US to guide a camp in the Rockies for Jewish kids.
For those of you who have seen the Cinque Terra in Italy, the Amalfi coast is similar, but bigger: bigger hills, bigger cliffs, bigger cities. In both places I've been there during the low season. Even though Positano is bigger it didn't feel like it because everything was closed. When my friend Brian and I went to the Cinque Terra in 2007, there was only one place open to eat or get espresso; it was raining; and the hiking trails were closed. Deja vu all over again.
My new friend needed to find a place to stay, so we stopped in a hotel. The manager was so friendly, as well as the other three guys who were all sitting around play playing Mafia Wars on Facebook! The we got into into a Farmville discussion and, viola, we were best friends. The manager told us that nothing is open until next weekend - including his hotel. He called a couple people who rent out rooms. He said it was way too expensive, so he gave Jackie a free room in his hotel for the night. Even went to get her a space heater because the furnace wasn't working.
The sky started to turn dark and I didn't know when the last bus back to Sorrento ran. We started walking back to the bus stop when thunder, lightening and rain all came at once. (Again, Cinque Terra) Although I didn't have my umbrella, I didn't care because I was eating the best orange ever to pass my lips. It was huge. It was sweet. It was juicy - so juicy that the skin that separates the segments was disintegrated. OMG. Anywho... just as we were nearing the bus stop we saw the bus was already there. I ran for it and as I jumped on the bus, I yelled back to say, "What's your last name?" I think she said Cohen. I'll have to search Facebook.
For those of you who have seen the Cinque Terra in Italy, the Amalfi coast is similar, but bigger: bigger hills, bigger cliffs, bigger cities. In both places I've been there during the low season. Even though Positano is bigger it didn't feel like it because everything was closed. When my friend Brian and I went to the Cinque Terra in 2007, there was only one place open to eat or get espresso; it was raining; and the hiking trails were closed. Deja vu all over again.
My new friend needed to find a place to stay, so we stopped in a hotel. The manager was so friendly, as well as the other three guys who were all sitting around play playing Mafia Wars on Facebook! The we got into into a Farmville discussion and, viola, we were best friends. The manager told us that nothing is open until next weekend - including his hotel. He called a couple people who rent out rooms. He said it was way too expensive, so he gave Jackie a free room in his hotel for the night. Even went to get her a space heater because the furnace wasn't working.
The sky started to turn dark and I didn't know when the last bus back to Sorrento ran. We started walking back to the bus stop when thunder, lightening and rain all came at once. (Again, Cinque Terra) Although I didn't have my umbrella, I didn't care because I was eating the best orange ever to pass my lips. It was huge. It was sweet. It was juicy - so juicy that the skin that separates the segments was disintegrated. OMG. Anywho... just as we were nearing the bus stop we saw the bus was already there. I ran for it and as I jumped on the bus, I yelled back to say, "What's your last name?" I think she said Cohen. I'll have to search Facebook.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Say Cheese!
I'm using an Italian keyboard, so bare with me. Things are in diferent places: this may also effect my spelling!
March 16, 2010
I pushed , pulled, dragged, rolled, and finally tossed myself out of bed this morning. East bound jet lag has never hit me so hard. If I didn't have a commitment, I would have slept longer. And YES, I understand what a sacrelige it is to say that when I'm in Italy. THAT'S how tired I was.
My appointment was for a tour at a local cheese factory. Caseificio Michelangelo is a family run mozzorella and provelone factory started my my guide's grandmother in the 1930's. Sara, who gave the tour offered me red wine while we waited for a family of four from Dallas to show up. Sara's husband, Cristian, picked me up from the square in Sorrento for the short drive to Piano Sorrento and the cheese factory. As I enjoyed my wine, I weighed the appropriateness of not only drinking at 10:30 am, but also the fact that in the past 24 hours I consumed all of two cappuccinos and one pastry. Surprisingly, because I'm usually a lite-weight with my alcohol, the vino pepped me up in time to don my plastic dress and paper hat and booties needed to enter the factory. There we met Sara's father, several uncles and a cousin, all hard at work. They were all very gracious, said hello, smiled and just stepped around us.
We got to make our own fresh mozzorella cheese braid with the help of Sara's dad. Then we went to the tasting room to enjoy more wine and seven cheeses - all pretty much varieties of the same processed or aging. The ricotta was the best I've ever had and their provolone was like nothing you've ever tasted - a bit spicey and maybe nutty.
More to come...
March 16, 2010
I pushed , pulled, dragged, rolled, and finally tossed myself out of bed this morning. East bound jet lag has never hit me so hard. If I didn't have a commitment, I would have slept longer. And YES, I understand what a sacrelige it is to say that when I'm in Italy. THAT'S how tired I was.
My appointment was for a tour at a local cheese factory. Caseificio Michelangelo is a family run mozzorella and provelone factory started my my guide's grandmother in the 1930's. Sara, who gave the tour offered me red wine while we waited for a family of four from Dallas to show up. Sara's husband, Cristian, picked me up from the square in Sorrento for the short drive to Piano Sorrento and the cheese factory. As I enjoyed my wine, I weighed the appropriateness of not only drinking at 10:30 am, but also the fact that in the past 24 hours I consumed all of two cappuccinos and one pastry. Surprisingly, because I'm usually a lite-weight with my alcohol, the vino pepped me up in time to don my plastic dress and paper hat and booties needed to enter the factory. There we met Sara's father, several uncles and a cousin, all hard at work. They were all very gracious, said hello, smiled and just stepped around us.
We got to make our own fresh mozzorella cheese braid with the help of Sara's dad. Then we went to the tasting room to enjoy more wine and seven cheeses - all pretty much varieties of the same processed or aging. The ricotta was the best I've ever had and their provolone was like nothing you've ever tasted - a bit spicey and maybe nutty.
More to come...
Monday, March 15, 2010
"March into Italy" or "Overweight Exit"
I've heard of large people having to purchase two seats on airplanes, but needing/using a special exit?... At least that's what I thought the flight attendant said. It may have been my lack of sleep due to another fight from my upstairs neighbors. In actuality, the stewardess was asking for confirmation from those sitting in the "over-wing" exit. Ugh.
Well, I'm back in Italy. March is still the low season, so things (hotels mostly) should be less expensive. Not that I have to worry about that much, as I'm using all my Hilton points. Thanks Starbucks. And thanks to three years of travel as an Operations Project Manager, I also had more than enough points to get a free flight. :)
So far, I've noticed that some of the young Italians are still wearing the shiney shoes they did 2 1/2 years ago. That's what my friends Mark and Brian called the crazy amount of silver shoes we saw on all ages when we visited Italy in 2007. Mark asked me to scope out the latest fashion trends, but other than boots for women, I haven't seen anything definite yet. I will say that the years of standing out as a American simply because you are wearing white (or any) sneakers is pretty much over. I have seen loads of people in tennis shoes. But Nike doesn't offer the same styles in America as they do here - much funkier. Well, never fear, we Americans seem to have plenty other ways to show off our nationality- just open our mouths.
It's my first day here, but I'm hoping to post pictures for y'all to see. I've been up for 29 hours now, so although it's only 7:30, I'm preparing for bed. For those of you who have been privy to the goings-on with my upstairs neighbors, I've got another good fight to tell you about. It'll have to wait though -I'm pooped.
Well, I'm back in Italy. March is still the low season, so things (hotels mostly) should be less expensive. Not that I have to worry about that much, as I'm using all my Hilton points. Thanks Starbucks. And thanks to three years of travel as an Operations Project Manager, I also had more than enough points to get a free flight. :)
So far, I've noticed that some of the young Italians are still wearing the shiney shoes they did 2 1/2 years ago. That's what my friends Mark and Brian called the crazy amount of silver shoes we saw on all ages when we visited Italy in 2007. Mark asked me to scope out the latest fashion trends, but other than boots for women, I haven't seen anything definite yet. I will say that the years of standing out as a American simply because you are wearing white (or any) sneakers is pretty much over. I have seen loads of people in tennis shoes. But Nike doesn't offer the same styles in America as they do here - much funkier. Well, never fear, we Americans seem to have plenty other ways to show off our nationality- just open our mouths.
It's my first day here, but I'm hoping to post pictures for y'all to see. I've been up for 29 hours now, so although it's only 7:30, I'm preparing for bed. For those of you who have been privy to the goings-on with my upstairs neighbors, I've got another good fight to tell you about. It'll have to wait though -I'm pooped.
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