Let's be honest. Americans (possibly the world, but I can only speak for Americans) have a love affair going on with Italy and all things Italian. If it makes you feel any better, it's actually not a one-sided love affair. I can't tell you the number of Italians that would give anything to move to the US and just think I'm crazy for leaving NYC to live in the historic center of a tiny little town an hour north of Rome with a population of about 2000. (Yes, above is a photo of said town.) Meanwhile, so many Americans think that that sounds like a very close approximation of paradise. Both sides are right, and both sides are wrong.... as is so often the case with so many things.
Now, my intention is not to disenchant anyone, rather it is to share the truth...both the good and the bad...so that a more complete and human picture may be drawn of this geographical and cultural object of desire. Some will fall more in love, some will be heartbroken, and some will be oddly intrigued. It's the dating process. So let's start the journey and see where it leads.
Many of you have already been on the first couple of dates. By that I mean, you've been to Italy at least once and for a week or so. You've seen a few of her best and most beautiful cities: museums, cathedrals, restaurants, fountains, shopping, gelato, etc. You've been wined and dined and generally swept off your feet.... Let's just say that at the beginning everyone does their best to make a good impression. Italy leaves you wanting more. She's hinted at Tuscany with the rolling hills and vineyards, she's shown you a couple of pictures of the beaches and the clear blue water of Sardegna, she promised that next time, if there's a next time (eyelash flutter....) she'll take you for a walk along the Via Dell'Amore of the Cinque Terre, she may even have flirtily taught you a few sexy words in Italian to practice until you meet again. Yes, there was that one incident where you nearly got run down by a crazy man on a Vespa who then proceeded to yell obscenities at you as he drove away, gesticulating at the air, but one loud little hiccup while drinking a glass of spumanti can be so charming. And it worked. You're hooked. You can't get her off your mind. You buy The Rosetta Stone for Italian, you start listening to Puccini, you rent every Italian movie in the foreign film section of your local video store, you even sign up for an Italian cooking class. It's true that for some the relationship may peter out at this phase. France will catch their eye and the process will start all over again for them. But for those of you that are more serious, the time has come to start planning a romantic “weekend trip”.
Ah, the first trip together. A certain degree of comfort has already been established, which is good because you will be sharing a bathroom this time. Such a turning point in a relationship. This time you want to try something different, see something off the beaten tourist path. Maybe rent a car and organize a road trip. And obviously one of the best parts: more time together. Three weeks instead of one or two. You're blinded by infatuation and you're feeling giddy and adventurous. Still, you're bound to encounter your first disagreement. Perhaps it happens at the car rental counter when you find that for some inexplicable reason they have no record of the reservation you made for a mid-sized sedan, but instead, after an hour of waiting and phonecalls, manage to find you an ultra compact Fiat 600, with barely enough room to accommodate your and your companion's luggage. Furthermore, even though you had been told, when making the now obsolete reservation, that your US driver's license would be fine, they're now telling you that they need an ACI approved license. But no problem, you can pay the ACI fee directly to them...in cash...and they'll “officialize” your license. You're skeptical, but don't want this trip together to get off on the wrong foot, so you let her have her way this time and laugh about how stubborn she is. It's sort of cute and endearing.... Oh, by the way, the car is stick shift. One more thing to laugh about. And away you go!
Several days later the next disagreement is brewing. It could start with the crazy drivers who cut you off, weaving in and out of traffic (to be fair you were duly warned after the Vespa incident). It might build at the intersections with arrows and cities pointing in all directions repeating and contradicting themselves and generally making chaos. And it definitely comes to a head when you discover that a full tank of gas for that little tiny compact putt-putt costs approximately $80. You take a walk to clear your head, questioning the relationship and wondering if perhaps you rushed things a bit, when you come upon an adorable little hole-in-the wall restaurant (complete with drippy candles, red checkered table cloths, and a passing accordion player) where you proceed to have one of the most memorable meals of your life. See how she does that? She basically just started rubbing your shoulders before seducing you into forgiveness. That's how she works. And that's one of the reasons you either hate her or are falling ever more in love with her her.
And that's why, though there were a few other “disagreements” as well, when you think back on the trip you mostly remember the ancient little towns built into the hill tops, the dazzling view of the sunset from the window of a B&B gazing out over an olive grove dappled landscape, the fragrant fruit and vegetable stands from where you purchased your picnic ingredients, the wrinkled toothless old man who's eyes twinkled as he asked if you'd like to sample the wine from his vineyard. Yes, there was the minor incident where you mysteriously “lost” 100 Euro from your pocket after a kind stranger offered to help you with your suitcase, but at least it was only cash (and you were sharing a bathroom after all so what did you expect really?).
To be continued.....
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