Kahlil got it right when he said that kids come through you and are not a part of you.
When you have a little baby, their essence is so much a part of yours that it is unnerving when they grow up and their lives are nothing like yours... even down to the people they choose to hang around. This isn't to say that I'm one of those smothering baby-talking Teddy Ruxpin Earth-mommy types, but it was still quite the eye-opener when the reality knocked me over. They do not have thoughts like yours and (in fact) they may not even like you... for that respect must be earned over long periods of time.
So to those of you who are watching your children leave home for the first time, understand right.now that they may surprise-delight-question you and your opinions... and that it is their job. They are not tinylittle yous...
It hit me like a brick after two days why we Americans are so fat. Italians do NOT sit down, and I'd be a fool not to adopt this lifestyle. We drive everywhere and even try to get the closest parking space in a lot. Italians eat everything and line up for gelato like it is their job, and yet, they are the most gorgeous group of people I've ever seen. Style comes with the territory even at twelve years-old. This culture of people knows how to dress but having said that... it is far easier to dress a fit body then a chubby one. I ate pasta, had gelato every single day and lost weight there. One hour of cardio a day on some machine at a gym doesn't cut it. Getting away from the computer and walking (yes walking) to the grocery store every day may do the trick. I tried it yesterday but I may forget to do it again tomorrow.
Have I mentioned the bathrooms? First of all, they are difficult to find unless you plan on paying for something at a cafe. Perhaps this is why not going on a planned tour has its challenges... I'm sure most bus trips have pit-stops, but when you are on your own, it's impossible. We did sign up for a three hour tour of ancient Rome - a must-do at night... but there wasn't one single bathroom on the entire tour. At one point, I had visions of being on the national news for having been the first American woman to take a dump in an archeological dig at the Roman Forum. Holy.shit.
Cheap shot. Sorry.
Secondly, the bathrooms there are beyond filthy, and I'm not sure what that is about other than a) they don't care, b) they don't clean, c) it's the only way to tell us to get the hell out and don't come back, d) we have turned into over-civilized freaks who even need handwipes to go grocery shopping... god forbid we contract e. coli from the buggy handle. I am far from a germaphobe and yet, I ran through four packs of Wet Ones during a two week stay in Italy. The hotels were spotless, but the public restrooms were gross. Beyond gross.
Florence... just a beautiful city all around and other than the bad bathrooms.. it was just awesome. The art galleries are unsurpassed. I'm not much of a meat eater but the Tuscan steaks were to die for.. bloody.massacre.raw, but tasty.
The whaddya-need-now-bitches mindset towards us was surprising. The waiters were snippy. Period. I've had snotty waiters all over the U.S. but Italy not only gets the cake for rude, but gets a big, juicy, bitch-slap raspberry on top. We were so elated to experience the Italy I had remembered.
I don't think we will be back any time soon knowing that Italy has nothing on France's reputation for hospitality.
At least we had amazing food, great wine, met some great new friends from all over the world, and had a fun time together. That's something.
Rome - Vespas on steroids litter the streets as do drivers who see rules or stop signs as mere suggestions. I was lucky to come home alive after coming in close proximity to several angry bumpers. The driving is a reflection of the nature of the Italian. Pure and simple - they don't like us. They have opened up their beautiful city to the world and now regret the offering. Sitting down to dinner was almost a threat as opposed to a respite. I was friendly to a fault to ensure that a gift of pissed-off-saliva wasn't hurled into my pasta bowl.
Not pretty. The graciousness of servitude is a thing of my past. (sorry... I sounded a bit Paula Dean just then). However, I was saddened but fortunate to be able to have compared this experience to another of mine almost fifty years before.
The Vatican was a joke. The tour was a despicable cattle herd with no air conditioning or place to rest. By the end of it, I couldn't have imagined how fifty years had bastardized this place into a money-making touristy souvenir shop only to be trumped by a mooring of a sub-standard cruise ship on the Carribean. Sad. The Vatican will be closed in a few years... this is more than just opinion since the world of tourists has taken over... its once reverant atmosphere has turned into a freak show with everything short of deep-fried Twinkies. As I said, I was honored to be a visitor many decades before the latest carnival. A visit from the pope doing Gangum style with a Nicki Manaj backup girl-group would have fit the bill.
Cinque Terre - there is nothing like this group of charming villages. Unfortunately, we did the Cinque Terre hike, not realizing that we were screwed until we saw a Finnish tour-group with poles, water-filled waist-packs for ULTRA-hydration, and massive hiking boots. I thought to myself as I stood there in my flat Keds with no water bottle... i.am.thoroughly.fucked.
It was a one-thousand step, four hour trek-from-hell through the terraces of the five (cinque) cities. There was no attire-warning to Americans - fortunately... the Finnish group did get the hiking memo.
Lucky them.
Back tomorrow with more about Florence, Naples, and the Amalfi Coast...
