A Trip to Italy (and maybe some runs) Part 4, Who's Lost?

The Villa

My non-international experience got the best of me this morning. I awoke at 5:45, pretty normal for me. I made my way to the living room (which was the wifi room as no other rom provided a very strong connection) and waited for Blane. Our loose plan (although it seemed pretty tight to me) was to go for a morning run together. So, I waited. I paced a lot, I went down to what could have been a pretty great meditation rock if it wasn't for the bugs and got....well, bit. Then decided to explore some of the hillside trail just below the villa. Out a half a mile, back a half a mile. Out another direction, back to the beginning. After about 3 1/2 miles of this I decided to head up to the entrance rode, run down the hill into town and back. BTW, you know when it's steep and painful DOWNhill that turning around won't be pleasant. Yep, still true. Got in 6 miles nonetheless.

Oh, sorry, anyway, my non-international experience.... See, I'm up, I'm in Italy, I'm READY to go!!!! Not so much everyone else. Most of them didn't begin moving around until at least 9 AND my honey slept till almost 11 am that morning. Yikes! I couldn't do that on a bet.

I turn where?

For the most part it was a day for finding the right place to grocery shop, enjoying the pool, and soaking in the vibe of the villa. 

Then came the problem. Not a BIG problem mind you, just a pain in the ass kind of problem. The navigation on "Chiara's car" was Italian Tom Tom. Translation: it sucked. SO, on the way back from the super Italian grocery store, the guidance proved to be non-guiding (and we actually FOUND the super store by accident). 30 minutes of my life that I'll never get back trying to remember where that road that leads up to the villa might be. I had that happen a few more times before I learned to successfully navigate our non-navigation system (it became all about making the turn at Poopy's Pizza (not it's real name, I think it was Poppi's or Puppy's or something. I just called it Poopy's). Poopy was the key, once I was at Poopy, I knew where I was.

Nonetheless, my coolness under navigational fire became my persona for the rest of the trip. My new attitude became, "whatever, I'll find it," OR "we'll figure it out." That be calm, be cool attitude came from one place and one place only: my ability to let go. That, of course, was based in my "In then end, who gives a rats ass?" philosophy. A great no-fail travel outlook, I believe. Helped me anyway.

Kevin's Birthday

Sunday was one of two nights where a chef prepared our dinner. I remember completing the dinner survey: which thing would you pick, what would you like etc.... Upon completion, I was pretty sure that if these meal choices were what I would have to eat for the rest of my life, I would become stylishly slender in no time. I like my fish cooked, my cheese on pizza, and tomatoes, well..... not at all. I recall the gnocchi being good and after that......

On the upside was that it was Kevin's birthday. We turned dinner into a nice celebration.  As per usual, dinner was followed by another night of drinking and chatting. While I totally get this phenomenon, I have to confess that since I don't drink and since most of the chatting is older their-side-of-the-family stories, my participation was minimal.

10:30 came around and I was off the hook and into the bed (Large group travel tip: once you've established yourself as the early to bed guy AND you don't drink, you've pretty much guaranteed that you won't have to stay up too late). SO...... night night.

A Trip to Italy (and maybe some runs) Part 3, Rome is For Runners

Piazza del Popolo

Somehow when you jump time zones, time disappears. And somehow, I lost Friday. I'm sure it was a good day, I just feel kind of bad that I have no recollection of it (unfortunately, that may become a more "normal" happening  as age creeps in).

So upon awakening at what we will describe as "my normal time," I am off to take on a real run in Rome. I decide that I want to run from the hotel to Estadio Olimpico (the Olympic Stadium). The prescribed route is simple, a nice out and back. 

The early section (mile and a half or so) was through the streets of Rome, the Strada di Roma. Early enough to not be to busy and full of the buzz of a potentially hopping Saturday.

Church of Saint Mary

The route took me through the Piazza del Popolo, site of Rome's oldest obelisk and of the city's northern gate. Right there as well is the Church of Saint Mary 'in Montesanto' which is like these two identical churches that sit across the street from each other.

From the gate I continue North through a cute little coffee shop/market neighborhood before heading over to the road that parallels the River Tiber. I thought this was going to be much cooler as the map showed it to be along the river. Well, "along" the river meant up on a road lined with tennis courts and condos. Then finally, to the left, was the stadium. I crossed the bridge, avoided some traffic, and then looped the place looking for the possibility of sneaking inside. No dice.

Instead, I hit the practice track, the Stadio del Marmi. Now I'm not sure what that means, who is Marmi after all, but I do know that the track is lined with these awesome statues and columns. It also references Pietro Mennea, the great Italian sprinter of the 70's. Well, if you're stuck on a practice track, this is the one to be stuck on..... beautiful. I looped a few times, hit the outside trail around the big stadium and decided to head back as we were off to Tuscany later in the day.

Stadio del Marmi

Happily I made it back to the hotel without incident even though I neglected to have the hotel's address for GPS purposes. I relied on my natural instincts. On the way back, I passed a Nike store and decided that it would be how I would kill the post shower/pre train to Florence time period. I would love to tell you how great it was but I have slowly learned something in life: a Nike store, is a Nike store, is a Nike store. Nothing overly cool. Nothing uniquely Italian.

We bid Le Hotel Feniche a fond farewell and we're off to Firenze (Florence) by train. From there it would be rental cars to the villa, just outside of Camigliano.

Nike

First, the Florence train station is, pardon the expression, a train wreck. Massive confusion everywhere, tons of people attempting to navigate the correct ramp, not the finest accommodations for waiting (unlike the Rome train station which was awesome - well except for the catacombs - but that's for another day). All in all, not the most pleasant experience. So, slightly on the crabby side, I am informed by my Brother-in-law, John that we will have to get our rental cars separately instead of together as we thought. Okay, no problem, I'm good at this.

I get Chiara. John gets "other girl." John begins by having some kind of paperwork hassle with "other girl," while I score MAJOR points being able to pronounce Chiara in a way that makes me sound Italian. "Wow, you're one of the few people who can pronounce my name," she said. I could go on about this and relate it to my vast travel/rental car and kissing up

Chiara's Car

experience, but I won't, except to say this: John got a Citron, ugly green hatchback without air conditioning. I got a Fiat 500L Black with leather, sunroof and air. Enough said.

The drive to the villa was about 50 minutes. As mentioned, the villa is outside Camigliano on the hillside. It's a heck of a climb even in Chiara's car but worse on the run as I would find the next day. We arrive, meet up with the rest of the gang (Blane, Leslie, Kevin, Alex), pick roms and get settled in. Cutting to the chase, the place was gorgeous. Here's a link if you'd like to check it out: https://buralla.weebly.com/ 

The rest of the evening was spent exploring, eating, chatting. Much wine was consumed (not by me, I don't drink), much catching up was done. By 10 pm, I am BURNT! It was perfect, just like home, early to bed, early to rise. Ciao.

A Trip to Italy (and maybe some runs): Part 2, Alex Gets Me to Rome

Thursday June 6, 2019

New York skyline from JFK

Up and at ‘em bright and early. The morning prep went without incident and we were bright eyed and in the lobby for our shuttle to the airport. Upon arriving, the baggage check line was LONG! Halfway through it, a nice lady checked our tickets and advised that we re-check in as we needed to have our passport “documented.” I suppose these are the little things we don’t know about until we know about them. The rest of the pre-security line stuff would have been easy except that Joey (Rachel’s finance – Rachel is Linda’s niece), was never able to get his tickets re-issued, and THAT was a problem. Nonetheless, after an hour of work (added to 8 on the phone yesterday and even more the day before), all was accomplished.

We zipped through security (TSA Pre!), and met up with John (Linda’s Brother) and his wife Patty, Kyle (John’s son) and his fiancé Kaycee So eight of the twelve villa residents were ready to go. Already in Italy was Blane (Linda’s other brother) and his wife Leslie, Kevin, (Blane’s son) and his wife Alex.

Boarding, always a tedious process, was complete and we took seats 37A & B. Absolute torture. Due to the previous ticket re-issuing fiasco, we were unable to try for better seats. SO, stuck n the back with little room for my crabby knee, hip, butt and back (sounds terrible, right?).

Once airborne, I decided on a free movie, and chose Free Solo, the story of Alex Honnold’s quest to become the first free solo climber to ascend the face of El Capitan in Yosemite. That solo, free: meaning without any aid attached to his body or the rock. Holy Cow! The movie is very well done and Alex, OMG Alex is a monster. One mistake and down he would go to a certain death but his focus on this incredible passion allows the viewer the opportunity to see an awesome place where danger meets obsession, meets self-disciple.  One impressive dude. In fact, I almost cried when he made it to the top, I was so bought-in.

The funniest part of the movie is this woman interviewing Alex and she asks, "I want to be sure I understand this, you make the slightest, tiniest move or mistake and you fall to your death." Alex says, "Yeah, it sounds like you understand."

We landed at JFK and had to make our way to the international terminal. Unlike most airports, at JFK you have to go “out” of the airport to go from terminal 4 to 1. Fortunately, the security lines weren’t long or slow and it seemed to be a breeze. Then, it’s the usual hurry up and wait deal. We grabbed some decent pizza, filled our water bottles and hung out with John and Patty. Before long it was time to get in line. Not sure what the deal is with these flights but for both the SFO to JFK and this one, our printed boarding passes weren’t good enough and we had to re-show our passports to be legal.

On the plane, our seats were pretty cool. An exit row with just the two of us and these nifty portable, pull out TVs with movies, television, games etc…. Amazingly, on AlItalia, instructions are first given in Italian and it seems to go much longer than the English version. Maybe they’re not telling us everything. The part of the plane part that sucked the most was in the beginning taxi-ing and waiting in line for 35 minutes to actually take off. Thought we’d never get up there. BUT, we are and life is good at 40,000 feet.  

But of course, we made it in to Rome. That’s when the day got interesting. First and foremost, Kyle and Kaycee's luggage was nowhere to be found. (P.S.: By the way, their luggage doesn't show up for days. The airline and shuttle companies break one promise after another. Frankly, how Kyle and Kaycee kept it together as well as they did is beyond me). Then, the shuttle driver tried to tell us the reservation was for four. No, it plainly says 8. It’s amazing how the language barrier makes it so they can always blame us. Home court advantage?

Eventually we’re off. Eight of us on our way to Rome via one crazy shuttle driver. Driving is bad enough in the states. Here, it’s a lesson in either full-on offense, or calculated defense. I will later choose the latter.

We arrive around noon, two hours too soon to be able to check in, SO time to kill. A walk to check out some shops followed by a little lunch/snack at a Ristorante next door.  Check-in, once allowed was pretty simple. Our room at Hotel la Feniche, well, let’s call it quaint. As advertised, it was small, and had old world charm. Let me define old world charm: it means that Rome has been around so long that any room, fixture, ceiling etc… can be left as is forever.

Trevi Fountain

Next it was time for some Roman sightseeing. I confess, I have no idea what anything we saw was actually named. So, instead it was fountain one, church two, and so on…  All kidding aside, some gorgeous stuff that goes WAY back. It’s so impressive that Rome has gone to such great efforts to preserve the architectural part of their heritage. We hit the biggie though, the Trevi fountain, made our wish and was good to go. No, I can't tell you what it was.....

It is during sightseeing that the greatest challenge of the family trip (ALL family trips) unfolds: walking around in a group of eight and attempting to achieve the impossible – everyone staying together, at least moderately together. We did, however, make one awesome decision, a restaurant called Klas. OMG, one of the best.