Wednesday, October 12, 2005
ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER
My apologies for using such a cliche'd title.
Italy was a great time. I love the country, the people, the gorgeous men, the gorgeous men's sexy Italian language, the art, the history, the customs, the food and the wine. There's not much I didn't love about Italy. It is a country full of romanticism and love. Did I mention the sexy men?
There are some things that I didn't love about my trip. There are things that were annoying but was definitely part of the adventure:
1. A hole in the floor for toilets. Yep, that's it people. No toilet paper. No flusher. Notta. OR you have to pay for a toilet. Not free to pee in Italy. The trains had toilets that had a hole that went right to the train tracks. You could see the tracks whiz below you and feel the wind on your ass for a nice air dry approach.
2. People don't bathe as much as I like. Some of the body odor on busses or trains literally had me gagging in to my hands.
3. Ever seen Harry Potter Two? The scene where Harry gets on a bus that drives like a bat out of hell. Yep, that's how everyone drives in Italy. The Italian pedestrians wouldn't think of jaywalking or not following the stop and go walk lights. You WILL get run over. Every time I entered a vehicle, I turned on Ani Di Franco on my Ipod as loud as it would go, closed my eyes and prayed to sweet Jesus, mother Mary or whatever saint popped in to my head.
4. Children begging is hard to watch. The gypsy families do this for their income and it's heart-breaking to watch the children do it too.
5. All but three nights, Bubby and I had to sleep in a single bed together. This was more of an oversight on the people we were traveling with who made the reservations. The first couple nights it was fun and silly. By the end of the trip, I was dreaming up several ways to have Bubby killed off so that I could sleep alone. We also had to share a bathroom with the in-laws for all but three nights. Four of the nights in one apartment, we had to sneak through their room while they were sleeping to use the toilet. Did I mention the door was see through glass? Nothing like peeing in the middle of the night while your Father-in-law is not only hearing you but SEEING you pee. Nice.
6. We had beautiful weather half of the time, rainy and very cold weather the other half. Did I mention that Italians wouldn't think of turning on the heat in October. Too warm they say. For four nights we used a stove in the kitchen to heat water and create steam to warm the apartment. In another hotel, my Mother-in-law and myself complained so much that they came in and just turned on the heat in our two rooms. Bbrrrrrrr.
7. You know how in hotels when the cleaning lady comes in, she knocks....waits.....knocks again and says very loudly, "Housekeeping!" Not in Italy. They do one short knock, open the door and start cleaning. One time Bubby was lying on the bed in his underwear when the cleaning lady walked in. She didn't seem to mind and would have kept about her business hadn't I informed her to leave while Bubby got dressed.
8. Italy has the lowest birth rate in the nation. Children are revered and spoiled and beautiful. Most couples don't have children or only have one. Every time I saw an Italian child I wanted to scoop them up and take them home. I missed my children so badly that on my Birthday I was just one big weepy mess.
These are all fun and quirky little things that happen in another country. I wouldn't trade these experiences for anything. It makes me appreciate all the more of what I do have:
A beautiful home with three working toilets and lots of cushy toilet paper.
An endless supply of hot water in showers.
Slow driving/moving traffic.
A king-sized bed.
Heat.
And most importantly, a house full of children that love and missed me and much as I love and missed them.
How fortunate I am.............
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
So glad you're back! How long did it take to convince yourself that could actually pee on the train? Took me three trips onto the loo...
Post a Comment