|
|
TRAVEL BLOG ENTRY
|
|
By Dan
Well, we’ve been living the easy life in Tuscany for two weeks now, but tomorrow we’re back on the road. One of the fun things about the trip, as I have commented previously, is how each segment is different. It has been nice for all of us to spend some time hanging out and relaxing here. The luxury of two weeks in one place, especially a place that has loads of space, a washing machine, a pool, and all the free chianti you can taste has been nice. But, I’m looking forward to seeing some new things, and even tackling a new country soon. Paraphrasing Scott Ostler (or was it Herb Caen?), I’m going to throw out some random thoughts, cheap shots, and bon mots from the last two weeks:
First, a bon mot: notwithstanding what Grayson may have said in his blog entry, I have been really pleased at how well the kids have been getting along. They seem to recognize that they have no other choices, and need to make it work. Endless hours have been spent playing elaborate games of hide and seek or predator and prey around the pool and surrounding areas in Tuscany. They can sure make a racket wandering the streets of Tuscan hill towns, but they’re usually laughing together. Random acts of kindness occur at the least likely times. Hopefully, this will continue, and the trip will bring them even closer.
You’ve read about the Curse of Milano, and the saga of the lost ATM card. I’m going to grumble about Citibank a little. Our first day in Florence, I went to the Citibank office there, to start the process of (a) finding out what was going on with the account, and (b) getting a new card. The local office couldn’t really do anything, but they put me on the phone with Citi customer service in the US. Much to my amazement, I was able to accomplish nothing, because I didn’t have our account number. I had Christina’s ATM card, and every bit of detail about our account that one could imagine, but without the actual account number, they refused to verify my identity. Usually, I am understanding when it comes to such things, but I was really surprised that they couldn’t offer any way of solving the problem. They wouldn’t even tell me what additional information they would need, if I was able to come up with my account number. Being the paranoid geek that I am, we have photocopies of passports, credit cards, travelers check receipts, average temperatures for Bangladesh in November, and the 2007 OMPA swim meet program. Shoulda included the bank account number. . . .
I’m feeling very European in my driving skills, with about 5500 kilometers behind the wheel of our little Peugeot. We’ve squeezed through some impossibly narrow passages (see, e.g., Berbiguieres and Perugia), merged through innumerable roundabouts, and cursed with the best of them. Last Sunday, I got to execute my first road block, though. Our friends the Smiths were planning on taking the 9:15 bus from Poggibonsi back to Florence. As I pulled in to the bus station with them at 9:10, we saw the bus labeled “Firenze Diretta” pulling out. It was the last bus of the night, and a long way to Florence, we were in trouble. I gave chase, and managed to pass the bus before it got to an Esso gas station where all the Florence buses we had taken had stopped. I leaped out of the car, and tried flagging down the bus, which steamed past. Back in the car, we gave chase again, managing to pass another car and the bus on a narrow road just before it got to the highway. I came to a complete stop in the middle of the road, giving the bus no choice but to stop. The Smiths climbed on board, and the bus continued. Starsky and Hutch, are you looking for a new partner??
Anybody who knows Abby, knows her fondness for hedgehogs. You’ve heard about a few corpses that we stopped to examine. Driving home one night in the dark, Christina and I passed a creature in the other lane and both realized that we had seen a REAL, LIVE, WILD HEDGEHOG! Throwing the car into reverse, we got back to where the sighting occurred, and spent 10 minutes in the dark while Abby applied all of her hedgehog knowledge to the hunt. Sadly, we struck out. Even sadder was the fact that Abby was the only one in the car who did not see the hog! Continuing on, though, our wild game sightings continued, when Christina noticed a wild boar ahead. (We had seen hunters all over the place for the prior week, and most restaurants offer wild boar this time of year, so we knew that they were around.) We were crawling forward, preparing for the perfect photo, when a large owl was spooked and flapped out of a nearby tree. That freaked out the boar, which took off. Let’s see if we hit the same sort of trifecta when we get to Africa!
Random song titles run through our heads from time to time, as we go through various experiences. Some pass quickly, but others stay with us. Some are obvious, some are less so. For instance, “My name is Luca, I live on the second floor. . .” was our theme song as we drove to Lucca. A number of times, as we have struggled with mysterious Italian road signing conventions and wondered where the heck we are, the Talking Heads’ “We’re on the road to nowhere. . .” has been running through my head. We renamed San Gimignano, one of the classic Tuscan hill towns, “St. Jimmy” in honor of the Green Day song. We were going to send Billy Joe a postcard telling him, but couldn’t find his address. This one is more of a stretch, but driving to Assisi, I had that old 60s song about “If you’re going, to San Francisco, wear a flower in your hair. . .” in my head. And, based on Grayson’s favorite version of ham, which is called copa, Christina frequently bursts into Barry Manilow’s “At the Copa, Copacabana” on a regular basis. By the way, speaking of music, Christina’s iPod speakers, which she brought as her luxury item, have proved to be a huge hit. Not only did they allow us to enjoy something other than French radio (really bad) and Italian radio (marginally better) on long car rides, they gave us Pavarotti as accompaniment on our gondola ride.
At some point, maybe I’ll do an extended commentary on movie titles. One really leapt to mind, though. (Side note: Everyone who knows me knows how proud I am of the kids and their smarts, and I’m sure their grandparents will take great issue with this, but . . . .) At our No-Tell Motel in Provence, there was a parrot in a cage. One of the kids put a finger in the cage, and was shocked to get pecked by the parrot. Hearing about that, the other kid then ran over, did the same thing, and also was pecked. Could there be anything more fitting for that scene, than the movie “Dumb and Dumber”?
I am constantly amazed, as we cruise around Tuscany, at how many great towns there are, and how even the most heavily touristed aren’t filled with t-shirt shops and McDonalds. Yes, there are plenty of shops catering to tourists, but somehow they manage to be fairly tasteful at the same time. Fisherman’s Wharf, it isn’t. Ironically, the two towns that have had the biggest tacky tourism quotients have been Rocamadour, in France, and Assisi, in Italy. The two biggest religious pilgrimage sites we have visited. Hmm, what does that tell us? I’ll let people draw their own conclusions. And, that being said, I do have to add that Assisi is spectacular, with absolutely beautiful old buildings and great views. We were lucky enough to be there on St. Francis’ birthday, so the place was jammed, but it was great to see. From there, we went to Perugia, which had a fantastic old part of town and hardly a hint of tourism.
previous travel blog entry
Would you like to comment or ask a question?
Sign up for a free account, or sign in (if you're already a member).