Venice...is it really a romantic city?

I have discovered that you have to be very selective as to which travel sites you use to find things like restaurants. Marco and I went to Venice for the last two days - for a kind of romantic trip, which is actually a lot harder than you think in Venice. Even though it is considered to be one of the most romantic cities in the world, it has several romantic obstacle for a number of reasons:

1. There are so many sites, and when you go there you feel like you have to see the sites. That means you're squished in the crowd of 2398723712894 other people that feel the same way and there isn't much alone time.
2. Venice is like a labyrinth - there are streets that dead end into bridges, bridges that dead end into buildings, and so many turns that its sends even those with impeccable internal compasses spinning. And if you have a map - it's even worse. Therefore, even if you want to have a relaxing time and just go to one or two places, grab some dinner or a drink, or go to a peaceful church, you will inevitably get lost and end up walking in circles, which can be tiring on the legs and body. This in combination with number 1 leads to both people ready to go to bed at 5pm instead of start a romantic dinner some place.
3. Venice is also like a huge Disney World in terms of restaurants. You know you are going to pay too much for bad to decent food. If you look on the travel websites for top restaurants, it's even worse. I looked on the websites for a restaurant that seemed out of the way, was rated well for local cuisine by French, German, Italian, and English speakers, and was not unreasonably priced. We ended up eating at a restaurant with Turkish proprietors, over-priced dishes, and decent food. Failed. I would say next time we'll wander until something catches our eye.

In sum, the experience was good, but a bit like whenever you drive a long way to a specialty store for a certain product that you have researched and have made the decision to purchase. You buy that expensive product and then return to see the exact same thing in a bonus pack at Target for $50 less. However...as tiring as Venice can be, and as confusingly winding as the streets are, you can't help but want to go back. Despite the tourism industry doing its best to exploit this 1500 year old civilization, it still maintains that famous feeling of enticing mystery and foreign elegance that tugs at the heart and leaves you wanting to return with someone you love.

Italy has elves...and they are helpful

Just got back from Torino, a city that is beautiful and clean and actually more like a German or American efficient than the rest of Italy. I could definitely live there comfortable We went to a Juventus Seria A game in the new stadium in Torino (decorated with all Italian colors and the names of the players) and visited my family who live in the area. Although I love soccer, my favorite part of the game was not the game itself, but the reaction of the people around me. Where Americans watching a game usually stop (profanity-wise) with "shit", that's where the Italians only start. The hurling of insults at the otehr team and at their own players for messing up is an art that you can only learn from a young age and lots of practice. Check out this picture of people in despair over a bad call:

In addition to Torino, we went to Venice on Monday to do some research for the tours. Both in Torino and Venice, we got lost trying to find a landmark. We walked around, sure of where we were going but found ourselves even more lost than before. Both times, however, a little old man with a can popped out and asked us where we wanted to go. In Venice, the old man held an umbrella and pointed us to San Marco; in Torino he held a cane and lead us to the Juventus store. There is only one conclusion to this....Italy, in addition to having small people in general, is a land of helpful elves that pop out when you need them. Never fear Americans who feel daunted by a huge Italian city - help is just around the corner, holding a cane and speaking in half jibberish, half dialect, but pointing in the right direction.

La Bella Sicilia

Balcony of Marco's Villa with Lava Rocks in Background

Balcony of Marco's Nonna's villa

We just got back from 5 days spent in Catania, Sicily at Marco's dad's family's villa on the sea (how's that for Grammar 1 possessive nouns, English teachers?). It was built sometime in the last 200 years - I ask for an exact age, but I am quickly learning that Italians do not think in terms of age. They look at a building and say "this is the municipal building" when that is only it's boring present-day purpose. When I ask what it used to be, they say "I don't know, a palace or some other important building...probably a rich family lived there." And when I ask the age, they say, "I don't know the ---- century", taking a stab at whatever number pops into their head first. Anyway, some time in the last couple of centuries Marco's family built two villas on the sea. They are right on a beach of volcanic rocks and every day the family and all of the extended cousins goes to take a swim in the deep, crystal waters before having a coma-inducing lunch at 2:00 pm. After a two hour lunch, beginning with pasta (primo), continuing with a meat or fish (secondo) and vegetable (contorno), still continuing with fruit (frutta), and ending with a dessert (dolce) and espresso (caffe'), all accompanied with the desired beverage. This holds you over until about 10 pm, when we eat a pizza or a dinner of cheeses, cured meats, vegetables, fruit, and bread. In addition, every morning was started with granita (kind of like gelato but way better). That's pretty much our visit - swimming in the sea and eating.
 
On the way to picking up food or doing more of this eating, we experienced the wonders of Sicilian driving. There aren't really lanes painted on the road, and if there are, no one follows them. On a two lane street, there might be three cars and two motorini all trying to pass each other. Red lights are more of a suggestion, the speed limit only counts if you're going too slow, and cars pretty much park wherever they so please. In fact, we talked to Marco's uncle at length about speed limits and red lights. Marco pointed out that he saw several cars casually cruising through red lights and his uncle argued vehemently against Marco, claiming that Sicilians DO obey the rules, per forza! Then Marco cited the time(s) that he's seen people go through the red lights when there is no one there, and his uncle responded, "Well of course if no one is there you would go. Why would sit there and waste time for nothing?" This conversation continued with a discussion on tickets for speeding in America and the imposition of speed limits on the highways - it was absurd that you aren't allowed to go as fast you possibly can in America when we have such opportunity with our streets and cars. The Sicilian point of view: "How can you fault someone for going as fast as they can if they have a V4 or V6 motor and such numerous, wide, straight lanes? It's more efficient that way - obviously if you have the means, you should go as fast as possible." I think I'll try that excuse the next time I get stopped.

Another thing I found striking was the relationship of the Catanese people with their volcano and their sea. Every day, the first thing the people commented on was the condition of the water. "Today the water is beautiful; Today the water is dirty, what a shame; The temperature is perfect for a swim." They eat food fished off their own shores and fruits and vegetables cultivated in their own farms. Weather includes not only the temperature and chance of precipitation, but how much ash will fall from the volcano. Marco's Nonna knows at what time shade will fall on her porch, making it possible to eat lunch outside, and his whole family waits for the one time a month when they can take a swim under the light of a full moon. In fact, this was our inaugural night in Catania - a family gathering ofmunching on pizza, watching soccer, and into the sea for a moonlight swim under la luna piena.

View of Catania with Etna (Catania's volcano) in the background

However another thought came upon me during this visit to the beautiful land of Sicily. Although it is a wonderful place to visit, I could never live in Sicily. Speaking with Marco's family made me realize how stuck these people feel, still controlled by a mafia-run government and helpless to advance themselves of self-merit. Many young people see no future in staying, and seek to leave as soon as they have a chance. Others insist on the possibility of change and the capacity of this generation to do something that has yet to be done. I am left with a hope that the latter will prevail.

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Siamo arrivati!

After a 24 hour voyage that involved losing one of my pieces of luggage, I am finally in Padova. The trip as a whole was long and tiring, but the arrival dinner made it worth it. It's funny how things don't have to be complicated to be good - in fact, that is what makes Italian food so good. It is made with few ingredients and the point is to bring the flavors of these ingredients out. Yesterday I had a dinner that began with mussels, stewed in white wine, tomatoes and onions, followed by a pizza topped with sauteed mushrooms and tomato sauce, nothing else. The whole dinner was accompanied by house-made Cabernet - the kind that I like, without a bite - and finished with an espresso and torte topped with candied figs. Amazing.

Today we went around a bit - went to the airport to get my bags, had lunch at yet another delicious osteria, and then drove to a grotto that was built by a Franciscan monk in 1858. Look familiar ND people?

Ciao USA...Ciao Italia!

I love how ciao means  hello and goodbye in Italian...makes for less linguistic mistakes (one word for two purposes) but a lot of confusion if you're not sure which the other person is saying to you. I'm at the point where I get to say ciao to America and ciao to Italy on Wednesday. The last few weeks were a whirlwhind of American travel...Atlanta to Charlotte to NYC to Albany to NYC to Dayton to Cincinnati to Notre Dame (South Bend) to Cincinnati. It's been a fun time and here are the some highlights:

1. I've made grilled pizza twice (once with Jack and Kent and once with Marco and family) and it is inevitably better than in the oven. I believe this might be because of the fire, but most likely because Alton Brown says its best that way.
2. Special thanks to Michael P. Furman for the best bagel I've ever had in my life. If you are in the upper east side, have Furman tell you where to go. This place is amazing.
3. I like tennis! I took two lessons with Marco's mom and was told that I "could play this game" if I wanted to. Very exciting except for the fact that I have no tennis equipment and look like a fool when I serve with my arm bent out like a chicken in the beginner position that I was taught.
4. Gokarting is more fun for people who like to go fast. When you take the turns slowly and cautiously it seems like you're just driving, and you wonder why you have a helmet and a funny suit.
5. If you go to Fiddler's Hearth in South Bend at 7:30ish on a Friday night you might get a table without waiting...if you go at 8, you might as well run to McDonalds, grab a snack and plan on eating when they open the next day.