I'm Meant to Own a Segway!
Arrivederci.
We'll see you later is what that means in Italian. We'll see you later.
That's what I had to say to myself and to Venice today as we parted ways.
Chris and I got up mega early today to get ready, do final packing, and have one more glorious breakfast with Mama and Fabio. They got up an hour earlier just to make breakfast for us since we had to be at the boat to took us to the train station at 8 AM.
As I was sitting there, eating my now favorite breakfast--(unsugarized and no sodium) granola ceral with strawberries on top, half a croissant, and a small roll with Nutella (that I tell myself every morning that I'm not going to eat but do because this particular bread is out of this world), I'm starting to watch Mama scurry back and forth.
She's in her element here at the B&B, Chris points out, taking care of a different kind of family. I watch as she goes to pick up large water bottles to take to the kitchen. Suddenly, I notice that she has about 7 of these huge bottles wrapped in her arms AND a large can of juice. I jump up to help her and she laughs at me as she hands me only the can of juice, of which I follow behind her like a child to bring to the kitchen. She says something ever so beautiful to me in Italian, saying thank you, that I'm beautiful, and that I'm helpful. And as her and Fabio talk about me in Italian, I beam with a sense of pride.
Wait a second. I am really beaming for no good reason. Because some random old Italian woman likes me. Or she at least very much pretends and does it well. And so does her son.
But wait a second. Why can't that be something to beam about I say? Who gets to say that that happened to them everyday? And in Italy, no less?
We talk and laugh with the two of them, take pictures, and as we're getting ready to go, I feel like Fabio is sad to see us leave. Perhaps he is a good actor but we stayed in his establishment more than most and I think he grew a true fondness for us. As we walk down the stairs and out the gate, I put on my sunglasses as I get teary and he says it again,
"Arrivederci. Don't you worry. You come back."
And like that, we're on a boat to get on a train to get to Florence.
We meet an adorable young couple while on the train, married a year. I'm probably older than the girl (and I almost laugh when she asks if I'm attending NYU). but we talk for the two hour trip and before Chris and I even know it, the countryside becomes Florence.
And holy. CRAP. Florence is a whole different world.
We get our bags, get in a taxi, and are off to our hotel. This time, it's not a bed and breakfast and although I'm already loving the hub bub and young nature of this city, we both say immediately that we miss Fabio. In hotels, there are staff-not really people who invest in you or your life. Just staff. Which is fine but I think Fabio spoiled us a little much.
I'm in Florence for two hours and I've already bought two pieces of leather. Crap. I'm so screwed.
Like, ever so screwed.
Anyway, later in the afternoon, we take a Segway tour. And if you don't know what a Segway is, it's the mall cop cars...and they're awesome. Although we're all a little shaky at first (it's a lot harder than it looks!) we get on our way and I love every minute of the tour--especially riding the Segway part. Actually, I'm pretty sure I smiled the entire time and people, when we were standing waiting for traffic to pass or listening to our fantastic tour guide Valentina, people would tell me how fun it looked and/or, seeing my goofy smile and obvious radiance of happiness of being on my new toy, say "Buongiorgno" or "Ciao", followed by a hardy laugh.
My tour guide deemed me the best driver which I think Chris may have been a little jealous of me (I don't know how I picked that up. Perhaps the way she sing song mimicked Valentina's favorite pick...).
And I was so giddy about the whole experience, my tour guide thought I was under 18. When I laughed and said no and then revealed my age (and also telling her I finally didn't mind being mistaken for under 18) she said "Oh, well I'm 26. People say to me, are you 29 or 30? And I just want to die." Hysterical. She rocked.
And then the night was topped with, duh, more fantastic Italian food and tasty gelato. Chris got Ameretta & Chocolate and I had Chocolate Mint & Chocolate Chip. Next time, I'm going for the berry flavors.
Next time, most likely being tomorrow. After our 12 hour hike in the Cinque Terre.
Wish us luck. And lots of it.
Ciao!
Love love,
Adrienne
We'll see you later is what that means in Italian. We'll see you later.
That's what I had to say to myself and to Venice today as we parted ways.
Chris and I got up mega early today to get ready, do final packing, and have one more glorious breakfast with Mama and Fabio. They got up an hour earlier just to make breakfast for us since we had to be at the boat to took us to the train station at 8 AM.
As I was sitting there, eating my now favorite breakfast--(unsugarized and no sodium) granola ceral with strawberries on top, half a croissant, and a small roll with Nutella (that I tell myself every morning that I'm not going to eat but do because this particular bread is out of this world), I'm starting to watch Mama scurry back and forth.
She's in her element here at the B&B, Chris points out, taking care of a different kind of family. I watch as she goes to pick up large water bottles to take to the kitchen. Suddenly, I notice that she has about 7 of these huge bottles wrapped in her arms AND a large can of juice. I jump up to help her and she laughs at me as she hands me only the can of juice, of which I follow behind her like a child to bring to the kitchen. She says something ever so beautiful to me in Italian, saying thank you, that I'm beautiful, and that I'm helpful. And as her and Fabio talk about me in Italian, I beam with a sense of pride.
Wait a second. I am really beaming for no good reason. Because some random old Italian woman likes me. Or she at least very much pretends and does it well. And so does her son.
But wait a second. Why can't that be something to beam about I say? Who gets to say that that happened to them everyday? And in Italy, no less?
We talk and laugh with the two of them, take pictures, and as we're getting ready to go, I feel like Fabio is sad to see us leave. Perhaps he is a good actor but we stayed in his establishment more than most and I think he grew a true fondness for us. As we walk down the stairs and out the gate, I put on my sunglasses as I get teary and he says it again,
"Arrivederci. Don't you worry. You come back."
And like that, we're on a boat to get on a train to get to Florence.
We meet an adorable young couple while on the train, married a year. I'm probably older than the girl (and I almost laugh when she asks if I'm attending NYU). but we talk for the two hour trip and before Chris and I even know it, the countryside becomes Florence.
And holy. CRAP. Florence is a whole different world.
We get our bags, get in a taxi, and are off to our hotel. This time, it's not a bed and breakfast and although I'm already loving the hub bub and young nature of this city, we both say immediately that we miss Fabio. In hotels, there are staff-not really people who invest in you or your life. Just staff. Which is fine but I think Fabio spoiled us a little much.
I'm in Florence for two hours and I've already bought two pieces of leather. Crap. I'm so screwed.
Like, ever so screwed.
Anyway, later in the afternoon, we take a Segway tour. And if you don't know what a Segway is, it's the mall cop cars...and they're awesome. Although we're all a little shaky at first (it's a lot harder than it looks!) we get on our way and I love every minute of the tour--especially riding the Segway part. Actually, I'm pretty sure I smiled the entire time and people, when we were standing waiting for traffic to pass or listening to our fantastic tour guide Valentina, people would tell me how fun it looked and/or, seeing my goofy smile and obvious radiance of happiness of being on my new toy, say "Buongiorgno" or "Ciao", followed by a hardy laugh.
My tour guide deemed me the best driver which I think Chris may have been a little jealous of me (I don't know how I picked that up. Perhaps the way she sing song mimicked Valentina's favorite pick...).
And I was so giddy about the whole experience, my tour guide thought I was under 18. When I laughed and said no and then revealed my age (and also telling her I finally didn't mind being mistaken for under 18) she said "Oh, well I'm 26. People say to me, are you 29 or 30? And I just want to die." Hysterical. She rocked.
And then the night was topped with, duh, more fantastic Italian food and tasty gelato. Chris got Ameretta & Chocolate and I had Chocolate Mint & Chocolate Chip. Next time, I'm going for the berry flavors.
Next time, most likely being tomorrow. After our 12 hour hike in the Cinque Terre.
Wish us luck. And lots of it.
Ciao!
Love love,
Adrienne
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