There and Back Again - A Rizzardo Tale
Weeeeeeeeeeeee're back! The flight from Rome to Atlanta was a bit better than the one over there. I still don't understand why we fly from Rome all the way up over France, up into Nova Scotia, down through BAHR HAHBAH (On the Cape, in Mass., near P-town and Dennis (not Denba, but the town of Dennis and West Dennis, which is actually north of Dennis)), past NY and Philly, over DC and finally into the ATL. At least this time we didn't fly all the way over Greenland and Iceland. I understand the curvature thing, but that northern route still seems a bit out of the way.
Anyhow, we had more cozy seats on this leg compared to the exit row BS we had going over. They played three movies (I think the 3rd was by accident) - but I only watched part of 'Lost in Translation'.
Our 4 hour layover in Atlanta was cut to 2 hours because of the rediculous screening and security getting in through Customs. I have a custom - get organized. We exit the plane, stand in a line to get stamped back into the country. Then we had to wait for our bags. Upon getting our bags off one carosel, we then walked them over to another line where we re-checked them back into our connecting flight and put them onto another carosel. Once we left our bags to be re-checked, we stood in another line where they ran us through x-rays and such and re-checked our passports.. and then once we cleared this, we had to give our immigration forms to another guy who then cleared us to leave that part of the airport. So, to all my terrorist subscribers out there, Altanta would be a tough place to come through.
Jule and I pigged out at a TGI Fridays at the airport longing for anything American to eat. I took the opportunity to grab a Frappicino (Caramel for my froo froo coffee drink buddies) which seemed to have two effects on me.
1) knocked me out for the flight from Atlanta to Sacto
2) gave me a reason to visit airplane bathroom and see how to fit me into a tiny box
I now know what the stuff we shipped home feels like.
They played a pretty good movie on the domestic flight. It was 'Big Fish' - a weird collection of tall tales of one man played by Ewen McGregor (otherwise known as Obi Wan). Pretty entertaining story. Go rent it.
So we are home. Our greatest thanks and appreciation for the friends and family who watched our strange new house. I feel at home but not quite. Hmm, oh well.
At least the bed is big, the bathroom is bigger, and the food is AMERICAN. Or better yet, not pasta. I mean, I love pasta and pizza, but I cannot understand how the Italians can eat that and ONLY that.
I guess growing up in California where the population is diverse and the food choices bordering on rediculous at times has made me spoiled by choices. If I want pasta, I go Italian. But if I do, its a reason NOT to have pasta for maybe the next few days while I sample other cusines. In Italy, its really funny.
Take Rome for example. My sister wanted to do some shopping on our last day, so I walked the gang to Piazza Novana and the surrounding area figuring this would be a shopping area. There were some stores, but every 2nd building had a restaurant, and every one of those restaurants had the exact same menu. And every menu had almost the exact same pricing. How does a place stay in business?
OK, so every fourth block or so would be either a McDonalds or 'Ristorante Cinese' (Chinese done by Italians.. no thanks).
Well, I think I figured it out. Its not really about staying in business the way we Americans think of it. If I owned a restaurant, it would then be my source of income and way of making ends meet. Thus, I would hope for a lot of business. In Italy, I think the folks more or less don't want to work, so a restaurant is a great choice. Since the owner more or less as the same menu found at the roughlyy 58524509852034850294385234 other places within Rome, it just a matter of a few customers and then one can say they put in a hard day of work.
Take the Italian work schedule. You be the judge of who has the better idea.. us or them. We work the '9 to 5' in America.. with maybe an hour lunch. In Italy, they start late (10am?), then take a GIANT break from like 1 to 3 or 4pm, then work again until maybe 7:30 at which point the entire country stops and eats dinner. Then, depending on what you do, you might re-open for an hour or two from 9-11 for the evening partakers of the 'passagiatta' to do their window shopping. Then they go clubbing until 3am. Next morning its right back at it - including a swift jolt from a teaspoon of espresso that could rip the paint off your walls.
Still, its an amazing country. Its amazingly beautiful. Its amazingly simple. Its amazingly tranquil and friendly despite the coordinated mayhem surrounding you. There is a lot of Italy to be envious about - most notably their serenity and respect for each other. Yet there is a lot here to be happy about - namely comfort in the form of big cars, houses, bathrooms, uninterupted power and water, warm water, heaters, a/c's that are turned on by you and not some random building manager and ICE.
Now, its time to preserve the memories we created. Develop photos and transfer video and unwrap boxes of momentos and visit family and friends to rehash the stories.
Thanks again for tuning in. I hope that somehow our postings and ramblings and reflections on life in Italy gave you something to enjoy and think about beyond your normal routine. I don't know when the next trip is or where (other than Chicago for a wedding in June). But, maybe we'll be fortunate to go again soon.
"buona note"
Weeeeeeeeeeeee're back! The flight from Rome to Atlanta was a bit better than the one over there. I still don't understand why we fly from Rome all the way up over France, up into Nova Scotia, down through BAHR HAHBAH (On the Cape, in Mass., near P-town and Dennis (not Denba, but the town of Dennis and West Dennis, which is actually north of Dennis)), past NY and Philly, over DC and finally into the ATL. At least this time we didn't fly all the way over Greenland and Iceland. I understand the curvature thing, but that northern route still seems a bit out of the way.
Anyhow, we had more cozy seats on this leg compared to the exit row BS we had going over. They played three movies (I think the 3rd was by accident) - but I only watched part of 'Lost in Translation'.
Our 4 hour layover in Atlanta was cut to 2 hours because of the rediculous screening and security getting in through Customs. I have a custom - get organized. We exit the plane, stand in a line to get stamped back into the country. Then we had to wait for our bags. Upon getting our bags off one carosel, we then walked them over to another line where we re-checked them back into our connecting flight and put them onto another carosel. Once we left our bags to be re-checked, we stood in another line where they ran us through x-rays and such and re-checked our passports.. and then once we cleared this, we had to give our immigration forms to another guy who then cleared us to leave that part of the airport. So, to all my terrorist subscribers out there, Altanta would be a tough place to come through.
Jule and I pigged out at a TGI Fridays at the airport longing for anything American to eat. I took the opportunity to grab a Frappicino (Caramel for my froo froo coffee drink buddies) which seemed to have two effects on me.
1) knocked me out for the flight from Atlanta to Sacto
2) gave me a reason to visit airplane bathroom and see how to fit me into a tiny box
I now know what the stuff we shipped home feels like.
They played a pretty good movie on the domestic flight. It was 'Big Fish' - a weird collection of tall tales of one man played by Ewen McGregor (otherwise known as Obi Wan). Pretty entertaining story. Go rent it.
So we are home. Our greatest thanks and appreciation for the friends and family who watched our strange new house. I feel at home but not quite. Hmm, oh well.
At least the bed is big, the bathroom is bigger, and the food is AMERICAN. Or better yet, not pasta. I mean, I love pasta and pizza, but I cannot understand how the Italians can eat that and ONLY that.
I guess growing up in California where the population is diverse and the food choices bordering on rediculous at times has made me spoiled by choices. If I want pasta, I go Italian. But if I do, its a reason NOT to have pasta for maybe the next few days while I sample other cusines. In Italy, its really funny.
Take Rome for example. My sister wanted to do some shopping on our last day, so I walked the gang to Piazza Novana and the surrounding area figuring this would be a shopping area. There were some stores, but every 2nd building had a restaurant, and every one of those restaurants had the exact same menu. And every menu had almost the exact same pricing. How does a place stay in business?
OK, so every fourth block or so would be either a McDonalds or 'Ristorante Cinese' (Chinese done by Italians.. no thanks).
Well, I think I figured it out. Its not really about staying in business the way we Americans think of it. If I owned a restaurant, it would then be my source of income and way of making ends meet. Thus, I would hope for a lot of business. In Italy, I think the folks more or less don't want to work, so a restaurant is a great choice. Since the owner more or less as the same menu found at the roughlyy 58524509852034850294385234 other places within Rome, it just a matter of a few customers and then one can say they put in a hard day of work.
Take the Italian work schedule. You be the judge of who has the better idea.. us or them. We work the '9 to 5' in America.. with maybe an hour lunch. In Italy, they start late (10am?), then take a GIANT break from like 1 to 3 or 4pm, then work again until maybe 7:30 at which point the entire country stops and eats dinner. Then, depending on what you do, you might re-open for an hour or two from 9-11 for the evening partakers of the 'passagiatta' to do their window shopping. Then they go clubbing until 3am. Next morning its right back at it - including a swift jolt from a teaspoon of espresso that could rip the paint off your walls.
Still, its an amazing country. Its amazingly beautiful. Its amazingly simple. Its amazingly tranquil and friendly despite the coordinated mayhem surrounding you. There is a lot of Italy to be envious about - most notably their serenity and respect for each other. Yet there is a lot here to be happy about - namely comfort in the form of big cars, houses, bathrooms, uninterupted power and water, warm water, heaters, a/c's that are turned on by you and not some random building manager and ICE.
Now, its time to preserve the memories we created. Develop photos and transfer video and unwrap boxes of momentos and visit family and friends to rehash the stories.
Thanks again for tuning in. I hope that somehow our postings and ramblings and reflections on life in Italy gave you something to enjoy and think about beyond your normal routine. I don't know when the next trip is or where (other than Chicago for a wedding in June). But, maybe we'll be fortunate to go again soon.
"buona note"
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