Mission Statement

So there is no misunderstanding, this blog isn't just another ex-pat site full of information and miscellaneous advice (unless you consider learning through my mistakes and observations a type of advice). My vision for this blog is to let people in on the truth of what it means to live in this crazy and lovable country. If you want to continue glorifying and romanticizing Italy, then some of what I have to say may be hard for you to hear. Consider yourself warned.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Mission Alfa Romeo146, the trilogy: Part III, the Final Chapter



      Let the day of fun begin!

Front view
      It was a little before noon when we bid farewell to Gaetano and his son. Though we had eaten breakfast at 5am it was still just too soon to sit down to lunch. So, since the Palace of Caserta (basically the Versaille of Italy) is located directly in front of the train station and it seemed foolish not to check it out while we were in the area, we decided to go there first and figure out the pizza situation in a couple of hours.




      Like Versaille, the back yard of this palace was utterly daunting in size, stretching back at least a couple of kilometers, where it ends in a beautiful cascading waterfall and fountain. We wound up exploring it via rickshaw and had a blast, but holy hell, I cannot express enough gratitude for the continuous ornamental pool accompanying the final uphill kilometer of the “driveway” where we stopped every so often to dip our feet and splash our arms and faces with the icy water, not caring how much we soaked the rest of our clothing. Were it not for that we would have been two cases of heat stroke just waiting to happen.

      When we returned the rickshaw a couple of hours later we were understandably exhausted and, more importantly, ravenous. We exited through the main court of the palace, purposefully ignoring the signs which pointed in the direction of the visitors cafeteria and snack bar, our minds set on bigger better, and less over-priced things... namely that famous Pizza Napoletana which had been rattling around in our imaginations for the past five hours. With that goal in mind we ventured back into the streets of Caserta.

      Perhaps it was the hour of the day, perhaps it was the time of year, or perhaps it's just the strangest city ever, but it felt like we were walking through a ghost town. It was inconceivable that just several hundred meters away the palace was alive with people and activity...and, most tauntingly, food. But every corner we turned only revealed more desolate streets and more locked up store fronts. Twice large “pizzeria” signs sticking out perpendicularly like beacons beckoned us from afar and spurred us on with new-found energy only to mock us in the end when we arrived at the locked door, our hopes dashed against the hot sidewalk. The only establishment we found open for business in the seven block radius we explored on foot was a Chinese restaurant which we disdainfully passed by thinking, Yeah, right. Like we'll get Chinese food when this area is famous for its pizza! Several more hours later we regretted our folly.

      It was too hot to continue on foot. We climbed into our new-old car and I hungrily ate a few cookies left over from breakfast. When I offered them to my husband he pushed them away.

      “No. I don't want to spoil my appetite.”

      “Okay. Suit yourself.” As you will read, there ended up being plenty of time for a whole new appetite to develop after that one.

      We began driving around but our knowledge of Caserta was limited to the area in which we had test driven the car. So we started turning here and there at random hoping to come upon the historic center where we felt certain we would find a pizzeria, even if only by the slice. I don't know if Caserta doesn't have a historic center and so is only the godforsaken area that we got to see, or if we just simply didn't find it, but after getting stuck in a loop of one-way streets and finding ourselves repeatedly in the same starting point as before like some sort of living M.C. Escher creation, we chose to bid farewell to the city and move on, counting on our next destination to deliver some sort of culinary delight...or at least a piece of pizza.

      When planning out our day we had decided to arrange for our drive home to take us through Sperlonga, a stunning beach town with an adorable historic center to explore on foot. So we set our GPS in that direction and told our bellies to hang on just a little bit longer. We assumed that upon arrival at such a popular vacation spot we'd have our pick of pizzerias. And I think we would have...if we had been able to get out of the car.

(minus the thousands of people)
      As we approached the town center the sparkling blue water of the coastline dazzled us even while the jam packed beach with its geometrically placed rentable umbrellas represented everything we find revolting about a beach vacation in August (see my entry August Hush). I mean you literally couldn't see the sand, just a sea of tan bodies and colorful bathingsuits filling in the spaces between the umbrellas like mortar. But we weren't planning on laying out or playing in the water...just exploring a little bit on foot and getting something to eat. So we started driving around looking for a parking spot.

      At first we didn't look very carefully since we were still moderately far from where we wanted to get to. However, once in the town center we found ourselves creeping along at a snails pace so that we wouldn't miss a spot or fail to notice someone pulling out of one. We made it through the entire town center that way and then some, until we were just as far away in the other direction as we had been initially when we thought ourselves still too far away to even start looking in the first place... and also significantly closer to sea level, which would have meant a steep uphill climb were we to finally find a spot. But that's moot anyway since there were no spots to be had. We turned around and decided to do another sweep going back in the direction we had just come from.

      Nothing had changed. Pedestrians wearing only bathingsuits strolled the sidewalks and shuffled between the cars continuously lining the street on either side. Maybe I'm remembering it wrong but it now seems to me that each one of them was happily munching away on something wrapped up in the classic white wax paper of pizza-by-the-slice. I admit that could just be my imagination.

      We explored every public nook and cranny of that stupid little town. Even the paid parking garage was full. At a total loss, we got back on the road and decided to head towards Terracina, not particularly known for anything and maybe just sort of the poor man's Sperlonga, but at this point we really weren't interested in the sights, just getting something to eat. So when we arrived in Terracina we parked in the first paid parking lot we found. Maybe we could have found something for free on the street, but we were done driving around aimlessly. Instead we ended up walking around aimlessly.

      There was a canal with what appeared to be a bit of a main drag running perpendicular to the shoreline, but when the first place on the corner was closed, my husband took it as a bad omen and insisted on heading towards the beach where one would think there would be a plethora of snack bars, etc. Well maybe down on beach level there were, but at street level there were only the entrances to the various and odious beach clubs on one side and the high walls surrounding the yards of private villas on the other. Plus, even though it was late afternoon at this point and the sun was well past its zenith, it was hot and we were walking (futilely in my opinion) down a shadeless street. Perhaps this is the specific point in which each of started to get a bit testy.

      “I really don't think we're gonna find anything down here.”

      “We've only just started.”

      “Well I can see that there is only beach and houses.”

      “The GPS says there's a right turn ahead.”

      “How much further?
     
      “About half a kilometer.”

      The Look.

      “Fine, what do you want to do?”

      “I don't know. That street is probably just going to be more houses. This isn't exactly a bustling commercial center.”

      “Fine, then tell me what you want to do.”

      “I want to go back to that main strip where we were before. I don't even know why we came in this direction....” I trailed off into silent muttering as we turned around and retraced our steps.

      The only problem was that that main strip turned out to be completely barren as well, just a few coffee shops, an ice cream parlor or two, a bakery, and a couple of small grocery stores. For the rest, the stores were closed or selling fresh seafood...to be cooked...and we're vegetarian. It was like the world was having fun playing with us in some very strange way. I mean, hello?!! We are in Italy: Land Of Food and, most notably, pizza! As my husband continued to traipse around growing ever more cranky, I started to dissolve into delirious laughter, just a chuckle at first but I quickly fell behind, my body wracked with uncontrollable giggles. Unfortunately my laughter was not contagious.

      “Listen, let's just go into one of these grocery stores and see if we can put together a sandwich or something,” I suggested, catching my breath with a final giggly sigh. Without any other apparent options he grudgingly acquiesced.

      After browsing three super (or should I say mini) markets we decided that we would not leave the last one without having purchased something to eat. So we got some sliced Swiss cheese, two rolls, a jar of pesto, and some plastic knives, found a bench outside, and ate as though we were refueling our bodies instead of enjoying some tasty nourishment. Then, totally over this town and this road trip, we got back in the car, programmed the GPS for home, and hit the road. As it happens the road out of town took us to the real main drag, bustling with people out for an evening stroll. My husband adamantly advised me not to, but I just couldn't help scanning the store fronts to see if we would have had better luck here, just five minutes away from where we had been. I'm relieved and puzzled to say that we would not have. I mean what the hell do people eat in these towns?!! Does everyone pack a bag lunch and go around with a cooler? I have no answer to this question but I do know that if I ever venture down to that area again in the future I will be far more prepared!

      We got home late. Our cats were hungry and pissed off. And we had an as-of-yet-still-to-be-satisfied hankering for Pizza Napoletana. But, when all is said done, the purpose of the trip was to go pick up our new-used Alfa Romeo 146 and so... mission accomplished. 


*If you are the copyright holder of one of the photos used in this post please contact me if you wish for it to be removed. 

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