Sunday, May 31, 2009
No...I am not American...
What is interesting about hanging out with Italians in Italy is seeing, first handedly, their general feelings and attitudes towardes le turiste, the tourists. During the day it is quite obvious -- American tourists walking around in their college sweatshirts, acting loud and certainly not fitting in. Despite doing all I can do to not look like this, of course people assume I am American. They are quite happy to find out, however, that I am Canadian, which is typically proceeded by nods and thumbs up. It also helps to try to speak the language and at the very least, io capisco molto bene, as I can understand what they are saying, even if my responses back are broken. I had one shop owner tell me that I understood perfectly and if given 2 months, I would be speaking fluently (well, that made my day -- I have bragged about this story a few times since).
Last night we went out to a night club. This is where the tourists and local co-mingle. Actually, I wouldn't go as far as to say co-mingle. The Italians, in their tight pants and dark, brooding attitudes and the tourists (read: Americans) in their vacay-wear and drunk, spectacle-making ways. They don't realize that the Italians are making fun of them. While the locals love the American music and know all the words to the songs (even if they don't know what they mean), they actually do not like the culture and the people. It was interesting to observe the North American culture (which I wholeheartedly admit to have taken part in on many occasion), but through the eyes of an Italian. It is actually a little embarassing for me. There is so much ignorance and so much lack of realization that they are not presenting themselves in a good light.
As I walked through the market today and merchants called out to me in English, I realized that despite my best efforts, I am seen one of the mocked North Americans in which I speak. More specifically, I am seen as one of the Americans who are the butt of many a joke. As I was once the Canadian in the Deep South U-S-A, I am now the North American in the I-T-A. Not sure how I feel about this overall. Still figuring this out. Stay tuned!
Last night we went out to a night club. This is where the tourists and local co-mingle. Actually, I wouldn't go as far as to say co-mingle. The Italians, in their tight pants and dark, brooding attitudes and the tourists (read: Americans) in their vacay-wear and drunk, spectacle-making ways. They don't realize that the Italians are making fun of them. While the locals love the American music and know all the words to the songs (even if they don't know what they mean), they actually do not like the culture and the people. It was interesting to observe the North American culture (which I wholeheartedly admit to have taken part in on many occasion), but through the eyes of an Italian. It is actually a little embarassing for me. There is so much ignorance and so much lack of realization that they are not presenting themselves in a good light.
As I walked through the market today and merchants called out to me in English, I realized that despite my best efforts, I am seen one of the mocked North Americans in which I speak. More specifically, I am seen as one of the Americans who are the butt of many a joke. As I was once the Canadian in the Deep South U-S-A, I am now the North American in the I-T-A. Not sure how I feel about this overall. Still figuring this out. Stay tuned!
Saturday, May 30, 2009
OPA! (Yes, that is Greek...not Italian)
Salih, Heather and I went out to dinner last night. I don't know why, but somehow we wound up at a Greek restaurant. We sat down, we ordered a bunch of appetizers...or antipasto...or...whatever in Greek. Well, an hour later the waitress came over and asked us if we had ordered more food since our plates were clean...no...they were clean because we had not had eaten. Then the manager came over..."ancora niente?" (still nothing?), si, ancora niente. They sent over a half litre of vino and surprise, surprise, the food was out in 3 minutes. I will give them one thing -- the food was amazing. Feta rolled in eggplant, filo filled with prosciutto...somehow our distance in Canada from Greece is blatantly obvious! We then decide to order dessert -- we let her order for us and she brought three, "but you pay for two". Well, another 45 minutes pass. We ask for the bill...another 20 minutes pass. We get up and walk into the separate part of the restaurant where all of the staff are dancing, drinking and not working. We see the waitress in the kitchen and wave her over...niente...we try again and again...niente...finally, she closes the curtain to the kitchen. We just want to pay!!! We think about just leaving money on the table, but it is next to the patio door. We try to ask another worker, but they brush us off to continue dancing. What to do? Yes, you guessed it...I did my first dine and walk (not dine and dash). We did not dash, we walked out the front door and even tried to pay a few other workers.
Anyways...since I am in Italy, a catholic state and the home of the VATICAN, I felt I needed to confess. So here it is...
Anyways...since I am in Italy, a catholic state and the home of the VATICAN, I felt I needed to confess. So here it is...
Siena e San Gimignano....bellissima
So, the last two days have involved falling in love with Tuscany. I get it. Seriously, I get it -- the hype, the love, the mystery, the beauty, the calm, the freedom. It is amazing. Yesterday was a trip to Siena. I had been there in December when the hilltop town was being doused with rain and the steep streets became waterfalls drenching my shoes. The views had been a convergence of storm clouds and rain. I had a respect for the city and knew that it would be lovely in il sole, the sunshine. I am so delighted I went back!
After a train ride South for a couple of hours, we entered the old city walls to a majestic Tuscan fantasy come to life. The Piazza del Campo was brimming with people and our pomodoro (tomato) pizza was piled high with fresh vedura from the countryside. We ate and watched the tourists and locals comingle in international diplomacy. The hunt for the view of the valley below began. Up and down, up and down the steep streets and stair-filled alleyways in the search for the holy grail -- at least the holy grail in tourist talk. We finally found it and it was well worth the sore calfs and blisters. All in all, it was a charming day...
Today we embarked on our journey to San Gimignano. This quaint medieval city is accessible by bus and we enjoyed the windy road to the hilltop town. This city was incredible. Dating back to the 13th century, this is the epitome of Tuscany. The views put Siena to shame. It was absolutely breathtaking. The towers once protected the townspeople from invasion; the slits provide the archers the ability to defend the city. If you close your eyes you can imagine the peasants scurrying around the city... I fell in love...
After a train ride South for a couple of hours, we entered the old city walls to a majestic Tuscan fantasy come to life. The Piazza del Campo was brimming with people and our pomodoro (tomato) pizza was piled high with fresh vedura from the countryside. We ate and watched the tourists and locals comingle in international diplomacy. The hunt for the view of the valley below began. Up and down, up and down the steep streets and stair-filled alleyways in the search for the holy grail -- at least the holy grail in tourist talk. We finally found it and it was well worth the sore calfs and blisters. All in all, it was a charming day...
Today we embarked on our journey to San Gimignano. This quaint medieval city is accessible by bus and we enjoyed the windy road to the hilltop town. This city was incredible. Dating back to the 13th century, this is the epitome of Tuscany. The views put Siena to shame. It was absolutely breathtaking. The towers once protected the townspeople from invasion; the slits provide the archers the ability to defend the city. If you close your eyes you can imagine the peasants scurrying around the city... I fell in love...
Friday, May 29, 2009
Sex shops, pot caffes and french fries...oh my...
So, one of the things I was most excited for in my second European adventure is my "freebie" city of Amsterdam on my layover to Italy. Now I say it is a freebie as I get a free city -- seven euro for the train and 3 euro for the french fries were my only expenses. I must admit, however, if you are not there for sex and if you are not there for pot and if you are not a 20 year old guy, you need not apply.
It was a pretty chilly day. No rain for the most part but a cold spring wind as I embarked on one of my customary walking tours (thanks to the help of Frommers online) which takes you through the dam and old part of the city, through the Red Light District and winding up at the train station. The royal palaces and main church left a lot to be desired and while the french fries gave me that fattening, fried carbohydrate high, I didn't partake in the other kind of high that the city is so famous (or infamous) for.
The Red Light district was an experience. Women of all shapes, races and sizes strutting their stuff in the shop windows -- a sight that is at the same time intriguing and disturbing. It didn't matter what gender you are --they were happy to accommodate any taste! Several men stood in the doorway calling out to get people to come in. Even I (in my sweatshirt and yoga pants) fell victim to their cries. When I said I wasn't interested, they ensured me that they had naked boys there as well -- WELL, in that case -- ummm, no. The twenty year old boys (who outnumbered everyone esle 7 to 1), certainly enjoyed it - although their nervous giggling and obvious over exaggerating of the situation made it quite evident that they were not mature enough to handle the situation. Most likely it was also the result of hanging out in a "no alcohol" cafe all morning. It does something to the brain.
Despite having 6 hours in the city, I opted for 3 and felt I had seen all I needed to see. I was tired from no sleep on the plane and wanted to avoid the rains that were coming in. I came back to the airport and cat napped in the waiting area. The flight into Florence was fine -- bumpy, but fine. I found myself in a very small airport and just opted for a cab to take me -- much easier than figuring out my way on no sleep and no light. Once again, I made it safely to my destination -- Firenze!
It was a pretty chilly day. No rain for the most part but a cold spring wind as I embarked on one of my customary walking tours (thanks to the help of Frommers online) which takes you through the dam and old part of the city, through the Red Light District and winding up at the train station. The royal palaces and main church left a lot to be desired and while the french fries gave me that fattening, fried carbohydrate high, I didn't partake in the other kind of high that the city is so famous (or infamous) for.
The Red Light district was an experience. Women of all shapes, races and sizes strutting their stuff in the shop windows -- a sight that is at the same time intriguing and disturbing. It didn't matter what gender you are --they were happy to accommodate any taste! Several men stood in the doorway calling out to get people to come in. Even I (in my sweatshirt and yoga pants) fell victim to their cries. When I said I wasn't interested, they ensured me that they had naked boys there as well -- WELL, in that case -- ummm, no. The twenty year old boys (who outnumbered everyone esle 7 to 1), certainly enjoyed it - although their nervous giggling and obvious over exaggerating of the situation made it quite evident that they were not mature enough to handle the situation. Most likely it was also the result of hanging out in a "no alcohol" cafe all morning. It does something to the brain.
Despite having 6 hours in the city, I opted for 3 and felt I had seen all I needed to see. I was tired from no sleep on the plane and wanted to avoid the rains that were coming in. I came back to the airport and cat napped in the waiting area. The flight into Florence was fine -- bumpy, but fine. I found myself in a very small airport and just opted for a cab to take me -- much easier than figuring out my way on no sleep and no light. Once again, I made it safely to my destination -- Firenze!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
