Italia- Part 1

Our first few days we spent in Rome touring around. Then we went to Tuscany and stayed for one night. The last day and night we spent in Florence. Somehow we managed to speak close enough Spanish to Italian to get around without missing any of our trains, planes and busses. While I would not dare negotiate on a bicycle the hair-pinned turns, impossible road construction and the unquenchable testosterone of young Italian men behind the wheel of a Fiat Panda Jolly, it is essential to go by car or vespa (motorbike) if you really want to enjoy Tuscany. A combination of Monica's uncanny knack for making the best of any difficult situation and my simple refusal to let exhaustion, inconvenience, pain and peril get in the way of a formidably relaxing holiday kept us in high spirits indeed. If it werent for these divine gifts of patience, persistence and bliss, Monica and I would have had the worst time of our lives. But how can we? After all, it is Italy! Indeed, we had one of our greatest times traveling together in Italy. There was never a dull moment. Allow us to enlighten you by providing a couple of tips before you journey to that dreamy land we foreigners call ITALIA....

First day in Italy...If you've ever spent an entire day or two touring on foot in another land, you will, as you know, develop a raw spot where your upper thighs meet your middle torso. The inevitable friction of skin rubbing against skin and the irritability caused by a combination of dyed boxer shorts and suspenders, doused with a bit of hard-earned sweat can make a leisurely walk in a nice place like Tuscany feel like the semi-aquatic life of trench warfare. While Monica retired to the shower, I was charged with the task of going to the local pharmacy to retrieve some chaffing ointment. As soon as I entered I was approached by a middle-aged Italian woman with a pleasant smile. Taking a quick glance around in the interim, I could tell I was not going to get far without the help of a local. 'Bonasera' I said, as the lady in the white coat quickly realized that I was either an American, Canadian or flamboyant Englishman. I felt that if this lady had been trained as a pharmacist, she could probably understand, if not speak, a bit of English.

Hmmm diaper rash ointment...that probably is going to translate in a very curious way. After a few attempts of saying diaper rash ointment in English and broken Spanish, I ended up having to act out the necessity of diaper rash ointment for her. I somehow had a brilliant thought of rocking a make belief baby in my arms while trying to signal pain in the baby's bum, using my own as a model. At this point the kind Italian woman still was not getting the message and took matters into her own hands. She called over another staff member and I found myself acting out the same scenario for him. There was a hesitation in his face but then he sheepishly said 'ahhh...rasha'! Yes! RASHA! I could hear a Hallelujah chorus... It was a miraculous breakthrough. They almost collided with one another as they dashed to the shelf that held the prized diaper rash ointment. Of course, I was feeling a bit sheepish myseIf and rather vulnerable so I felt the need to tell them it was for "our baby" (the one we don't have). I mumbled something about our 'bambino' and thanked them profusely, wishing them a good evening as I waddled out the door like a limp and severely chaffed penguin. By the way, for future reference, the name of diaper rash ointment in Italian is...'Pasta di Fissan.' Pasta!? What! I thought this was just a food. Not in Italy. Our first night was already so eventful we could only imagine what the rest of the trip was going to hold. Here are some of our pictures to highlight this amazing place...

ROMA-

The Vatican







Fontana de Trevi



Colloseum













Gelato!!!




Rome Sunset