Andiamo!

Before anybody gives me any sort of crap about "wasting" time online while in Italy - let me make something very clear. This is my vacation. So even though it will be spent largely in part by trapsing all over this GORGEOUS country, sometimes I do just want to sit down and veg out and tell you all about my adventures.

It's about 10 AM here in Ponsacco. I'm sitting here with fresh coffee and biscotti and yes, I have just done a tiiiiny bit of work. Taryn and I returned from Rome last night and boy, will there ever be lots to tell you (and show you!) in the coming days.

After 7 hours on a plane across the Atlantic Ocean (and with a rude European's seat fully reclined into my lap), 3 hours in London's Heathrow airport, and 2 more hours on a much much tinier plane, I arrived in Pisa. And luckily, finally engaged my travel instinct and found Taryn. (How in the WORLD did people live before cell phones???) Europeans are funny people. Heathrow was out of control at 6:30 in the morning, full of loud people and a myriad of languages and absolutely and positively NO QUEUES and yet somehow, things get done faster and with more expertise than any American way I've ever seen. I ordered a coffee with milk at Pret a Manger and was immediately corrected "FILTER! WHITE!" before being asked for payment. And yet, somehow, none of this was done in any sort of rude way. Europeans are just generally faster and more passionate in any crowded situation. The gate for my Pisa flight was not even announced until 10 minutes before flight time and, by-george, we still took off on time and landed early. American and their lines and 45 minute boarded processes have nothing on these people.

But I really didn't come here to talk to you about airports and queues. Upon landing in Italy, Taryn treated me to a cafe macchiato which is NOT that very large caramel flavored thing you order at Starbucks. "Cafe" means a shot of espresso, macchiato means steamed milk. Cappucini simply have even more milk than a cafe macchiato and are ONLY to be consumed at breakfast time...to order any time post noon will certainly draw gasps of exasperation. I spent the next few hours volunteering at Girl Scouts North Atlantic Headquarters, where Taryn works. Her darling coworker apologized for welcoming me to Italy and putting me to work. My take? If I have to do something mundane, might as well at least do it in Italy. Taryn drove us home and I marveled over her new Italian driving skills and mastery of traffic circles. She then welcomed me with a lovely little antipasti platter before her friend Rachel joined us. Dinner that night brought "real" pizza (yuuuum!) and a stroll through Ponsacco before limoncello and a pastry. Home again, I gotta say, having not slept in 48 hours, a bed and pajamas have never felt so good.

I awoke Friday morning and again accompanied Taryn to work, as we had planned to catch a train in the afternoon for Rome. Some packet assembly kept me nice and occupied, and then it was off to Livorno to park the car and hop a train. Taryn took some time to explain the Italian train system so that I'll be prepared for this week's solo daytrips. 4 hours later, we arrived in Rome and navigated through Termini (Rome's main train hub) and onto the rainy streets, where I navigated us to our hotel without much fanfare. (Travel tip - Romans apparently consider some streets optional and therefore elect to not put them on maps, leaving dumb tourists to wonder "Am I going the right way?" far too often. Also, this New Yorker CERTAINLY missed her gridded, numbered streets.) We checked into the Hotel Stella, which had offered a nice and low rate and proved to have clean (though tiny) rooms, private baths and ample accomodations for our needs. Being a concierge meant my first instinct was to ask the front desk for a dinner recommendation. We set off (in the rain) for La Famiglia, and were greeted with a multi-lingual menu and grumpy staff. Though the food was tasty, this was clearly a tourist trap, start to finish. Over-priced, and courses were served on top of each other, which is NOT the way it had been promised to me. My gnocchi was divine, but my cut of lamb was a joke and resulted in MAYBE 10 good bites, as the rest was all fat and bone. Also, I got a piece of prosciutto stuck in my throat during the antipasti course, which left me very uncomfortable for the duration of the meal. It's funny now (hey Alison - remember that time you got a piece of ham stuck in your throat??) but seemed a disaster at the time.

We left without bothering with dessert or cafe (a sin in Italy) and headed home to study the map, set the next day's agenda, and fall into bed. And as this entry has grown too long, I'll pause here to allow you to digest this tale's antipasti and pasta courses before I dive into the much heavier secondi pasti and meat courses. (Did I really just compare a blog entry to an Italian meal???) Besides, I'd really like to locate a camera cord so that I may begin to punctuate these stories with pictures!

And, it's high time I showered and started my day, anyhoo. You know, this is my first "grown up vacation" where I didn't just fly to Charlotte or Birmingham or simply head to the beach for the weekend. It still astounds me that I have over a week in this lovely place!

But for now, ciao ciao!