Photo Post and Random Thoughts

It's been raining in Florence recently, so our big plans of looking nice and doing stuff have sort of disintegrated into eating stuff and sitting around. But, I do have some quality photos, as you can see by the lead above. That one is what I like to call: "Martin's thoughts on the price of the jacket." Actually, it could have been me just taking a bad photo, but I like to supply the fun inner monologue nonetheless!! :) Though, the below dialogue did happen:

Me: I don't know, I thought it flattered you.

Martin: Did he really think I was going to buy a member's only jacket? Please!!


On the last really warm and sunny day (sunday) I took some of pictures of the Arno. Which is SO beautiful. I have been lucky to see a lot of beautiful things in my life, including places like Cape Town and Machu Picchu, but there is something special about the Arno.



And then, there is the power of leather and fur, united into one jacket! And yes, it does inspire some silliness!!


Finally, I have a few thoughts on carbs. As Martin and I start planning our trip to Monaco (!!) we realize that we need to look good. And we also realize that we live in carb land. Yet, YET, most of the Italians we see are TINY. The overweight people seems to be mostly american (shocking I know). How do they do it? What secret are the Italians hiding from us? How are we going to fit into our crazy Monaco gear (bling and fur)??? These are the deep questions on my mind, and rest assured, I am on the case!

Risotto: Breakfast of Champions!

Anyway-
Martin and I have this habit. He will be looking to buy something (a shirt, a jacket...something fairly basic) and then, while on the way to look at said clothing items, we will end up buying stuff for me. I'm not always sure how it happens, and I mostly appreciate it when it does because Martin has a great eye and awesome sense of accessories, but yesterday, in the leather market I think that the smell of Italian leather went to my head as I ended up with yet another leather jacket! I mean, an awesome leather jacket (Me: Would you buy this? Martin: "Honey, if it were me I'd have already paid and walked out of the store wearing it!") which will truly help sell our fake Italian over the top Monaco look that we are planning, and one that I bargained HEARTILY for and is warmer than my other coat but still. Is it because I'm becoming more Italian that I feel the need to swath myself in yet more mis-matched shades of brown? I mean, if my inner Italian demands more leather goods, I should just roll with it, right? And why am I rambling on like this? Because we are trying to be fiscally responsible and so cooking for ourselves, hence risotto for breakfast!

And while I am on risotto, let me mention that I LOVE RISOTTO. And now Martin, after feebly fighting it, has given in and started cooking different kinds for every meal and it is AWESOME. So far we have had red wine and honey risotto, shrimp and prosecco and melon (!! awesome!) risotto, pear and peccorino, and now there is talk of some sort of sausage risotto (me, hopefully: "with honey?" Martin: "sigh. of course!") and life is awesome! And I even know how to make it! But as Martin said, it really is only on step up from soup and scarily easy. But the best part? We are now getting recipes from our favorite restaurant! We are one step closer to having them teach us to cook!! Our evil plans are slowly coming to fruition. Our code names finally MAKE SENSE!

In other news, we actually ran into people we know (that we met here, not that find me internationally--Pius you rule!) at our local pub, so are starting to feel like we belong. Our bartender even knows our regular schedule (Him: "you guys are late tonight!" Us: "What time is it? We are? Risotto!") and we are taking Italian lessons. We had two last week, and they blew my mind. Normally, in a 101 type of foreign language course, you start with present tense verbs and maybe some vocabulary. Not for us in Italiano it seems. Nope--we got Present, Imperfect, Past Perfect, and Simple Past in HOUR NUMBER 3. I'm not sure which way I'm coming or going, but apparently I'm going to do it in the present or the past. I'm terrified!! We like our teacher however, she was recommended by our landlady and is fun. And, Italian is much more forgiving than French, so there is hope for me maybe?

Finally, besides knowing people, taking lessons, and dressing well (cough, better), we feel that we are totally caught up on one of Italy's major past-times, which is aimless strolling. Our first week here we would walk around at night, and wonder where everyone was going. Why weren't we going there? How should we figure out how to get there? Where was there again? But now, we are in the know--Italians aren't going anywhere! So last night, after dinner at our local pizza joint (taking a break from risotto) we went for a stroll and felt quite Italian. We felt our wandering was properly aimless (well, to a point. I mean, we did head in the direction of gelato because this is me) and we even walked past a church! And a library! Hi Mom and Dad!

So overall--we are slowly becoming more and more Italian. And I know pictures have been requested--Martin and I are working on it, more photos (of us!) to come soon!

The picture I posted above is of another mask in Venice. But I can also get my hair to look like that if it is really humid out....

Venezia!!

Voiceover: 2 weary travelers slowly edge out into the light of the piazza in Florence, bound for Venice, ready for-

Martin: Who are you talking too? And I think it is "One weary traveler, and one rugged guide."

Me: Really?

Martin: You still have pillow marks on your cheek.

___________________________________________________________

Ok:
1. Apologies for being MIA and generally out of touch with everyone for the last week. Our apartment situation had me pretty cranky, and also yahoo stopped delivering some emails for awhile as well. So, if I haven't responded, hit me again! *Also, a picture ban was in effect of ourselves, what with our shower situation. Pic above is our nod to requests for pictures from parents. See--Martin drew us in in the lower left! He is awesome!

2. We are back in our original apartment, WITH lighting! Electricity! AND (drumroll) water! Ahh, to be clean. We are back to living the dream!

3. Enough of that, let's talk Venice! For those of you who have met me before, many of you know that Venice is one of my favorite cities in the world. Mysterious, beautiful, unique, and full of small but surprisingly aggressive people. Martin and I both noticed that people were all for plowing through you on the narrow and packed streets of the city located between the Rialto bridge and San Marco, and for someone with as poor depth perception as I have, it was almost a recipe for disaster. Uneven pavement, crazy stairs, water everywhere, AND small people knocking into you? How are you expected to stay upright? (I mean, I did. But it was a challenge!)

We arrived on Saturday afternoon and due to a dire laundry situation, immediately commenced clothes shopping on the way to San Marco. Martin has discovered that besides being my rugged guide, traveling companion, sherpa, and compass, he is also now my stylist! Fun for him!! I ended up in a shop with an awesome but somewhat aggressive sales lady who had no problems fixing the clothes while I was putting them on, or visiting me in the dressing room regardless of my state of undress. Fun for me!! Regardless, after my AmEx card started flaming from use, Martin did tell me that I had just: "edged my way up the style ladder by a rung or two." Eventually we did indeed make it to San Marco, bags aplenty! Evidenced by a photo of the same building that Martin sketched above.

We ended up trying to do the insiders tour of the Doge's Palace (secret hallways! A chance to pretend to be on Alias!) but were brutally rebuffed twice. Down but not out, Martin discovered a whole crazy international architect exhibit, that he was like: "we are going to this! You owe me one for the shopping!" and I was like: "Hey, if they let us in I'm there! I can totally make snap judgements about international architechture!" So off we went. It was amazing! Pictures below of a few of the exhibits. I stayed less time than Martin, b/c my simple mind is easily blown, but definitely worth the visit.


And then, out of nowhere was...PIUS! Who found me wandering on the streets near San Marco. He is in Italy on a whirlwind tour, and is now in...FLORENCE. Sitting next to me actually. Friends, Pius has set a high bar. Not only did he find me in Florence where I have an address, but he found me in Venice where I was often confused. Who wants to step up to this challenge? Who? (shout out in the comments! they keep me entertained!)

Finally, following our plan of asking random people stuff, we got a restaurant recommendation from a nice shopkeeper (Us: "Where is the best place to eat in Venice?" Him: "My house." Us: "Ummm....2nd best?") and ended up eating historic Venetian cusine. It was terrifying but also awesome, and our waiter was hilarious. He choose our food for us, took pictures, and gave us his facebook address! :) Now THAT my friends, is service!

We spent our last morning doing different things, me off to Murano to buy glass, and Martin back to the exhibit. We both emerged happy but tired, and were excited to get off the train in Florence and head back to our temporary apartment. Below are pictures of a canal, Church, gondola, and some really outstanding venetian masks. My favorite quote of the night, after I told Martin I was off to bed, was his response-

Martin: "I'm going to go and slip into a beer, and maybe some fries. You know, something a little bit more comfortable...."

True Greatness

Admittedly, Italy is great at many things: Pasta for instance. Rose Prosecco. Really expensive shoes. Expansive hand gestures. Wearing 40 different pieces of non-matching leather and still managing to look stylish. Being shaped like a boot, AND selling boots.

See--I am a fan!

But, every now and then an Expat knows that you hit that wall. They call it the U-curve. First, you are on a high ("I love everyone!!") and then, reality starts to sink in ("Most people are cool I guess") until finally, you bottom (hee!) out at the bottom of the U ("What don't these people get about CUSTOMER SERVICE??? (brussels only really) And WHY ARE THEIR SHOES SO SMALL!!") We have all been there. Eventually, you do go back up ("I want to marry this country and have pasta shaped babies with it!!") and all is well.

But oh, the bottom. Oh yes. That, my friends, is where you start to appreciate the things about your native land, and become a little teary-eyed when the local foriegn pub somehow starts playing Kenny Loggins on the loudspeaker. That is when, while sitting on your cafe stool, hanging out because your apartment has, in steady succession, lost hot water, power, and then all attempts at functioning plumbing, you realize the greatness of your home. And in the case of the US of A, there are many things that we do well. But above all, as god as my witness, WE HAVE GREAT PLUMBING! Toilets that flush, loudly and with power. Showers that not only give you water (hot! steaming even!!) but also water pressure!! Electricity that works, ALL the time. Lights that flip on and stay on. Meaning that you spend a large majority of your time clean and happy, seeing everything in your apartment, and LIVING THE DREAM!

To Americans and America everywhere, let me just say a heartfelt Bravo.

We thank you.

That is all.

c.

PS: And now we are off to Venice since our experience this week is more "13th Century" Tuscany than "Mondern Times." When you do not have water where better to go than a city BUILT on water we say! In the interim, we are shortly being moved into a temporary apartment, and look forward to seeing our palazzo (in the light of electric light) when it is repaired and we return. Showered and clean. Ahh, the good life. And a shout out to Sarah--we HAVE found our version of the Stick and Weasel, and it is EVEN BETTER.

Mission: Pasta Storm

Scene: 2 Americans shiftily approach a small, but outstanding, Italian restaurant.

Restaurant Owner: Ehhh...Bonjourno! Waait. You are...Martino?

American 1 (Call Sign: "Cheeks MD"): Yes, Yes! Hello! Ca Va! Er....Umm, Hello!

American 2 (Call Sign: "Boots McFee"): ?

RO: Come in--here is good? (Points at table)

Cheeks: Wonderful. Grazie! (They sit)

Boots (stares suspiciously over menu): Are they onto us yet?

Cheeks: They will be if you keep staring at them like that.

Boots: But our idea is GENIUS! It's crazy to pay for cooking lessons when you can just stalk a restaurant until they adopt you and teach you to cook for free!

Cheeks: Let's just stick to the plan tonight Boots. We'll wait till they close, buy them a round, and broach the idea.

Boots: Ok, well then: Prosecco Emergency! (Points to empty glass)

Cheeks: [Deep sigh].

(2 hours later)

RO: And how was everything?

Cheeks: Amazing! Thank you!

Boots: (darts shifty glances at other restaurant patrons who appear to be sticking around past close) ...

RO: Well, have a limoncello on the house! For you!

Boots: ! !!!! (whispers excitedly) We're in!

Cheeks: Slow down there tiger.

(20 minutes later)

Boots: (Confusedly) Is he coming back?

(10 minutes later)

Cheeks: Hmmmm. I think we have a long road ahead. Let's just say goodbye, and come back again soon.

(they walk out towards owner)

RO: Ahh, well, come again! Martino, yes? And....your name is?

Boots: Christie.

RO: Chrisss-tie!

Cheeks: Well, thanks for a great evening...Paulo (?)

RO: Umm....Paulo? (confused look) My name is Nickolai.

(walks away)

Boots/Cheeks (Stare at each other and start giggling): Damn. Well, there goes that in!

(End scene)

We did however, get friended by our favorite bartender on facebook at our favorite non-local pub. so it's not all 15 steps back!

Voiceover: Next up on the Adventures of Boots McFee and Cheeks MD
1. What happened with the 6 Hawaiians?
2. Who found the Rose Prosecco?
3. Who, exactly, swing-danced with whom at the Ferragamo Palazzo? And why was someone wearing flip flops?
4. Will Batman be able to reach his bat utility belt in time?

Tune in next time! And Follow me! (see posting below!)

Follow Me?

I know.

Famous Last Words.

But, somehow Martin became a follower of my blog without me knowing how? or what? But then I signed on anyway, because blogger told me it would be fun. And, I'm not willing to fight blogger. Europeans who repeatedly try and run me over? Maybe. People who wear lots of acid washed denim? Most likely. But blogger--definitely not!

So, become a follower! I'm not really sure how it all works, but because I have evil plans involving blogs in my future anyway, I figured it would be good to check out. So that note, if you enjoy the blog, or find it interesting and worthy of more than one read, then show the love and follow me!* The link is on the upper right hand corner. Whoo! (Whuuu!)


*I'm not saying I will be personally offended if you don't choose to follow me, but I may stop responding to emails. Or answering your calls. And start referring to you as that person I used to know. What was your name again? :)

Becoming Italian: Part 2

So ok-
Prior to posting I wanted to thank everyone who has commented so far. I love the comments! You are all hilarious! Keep commenting! Whoooo! Yay!!

Photo is one Martin took of me doing my best to appear (in the dark, from far away, if you squint and have been drinking) as an Italian woman. We have decided, after a solid week of careful and intensive observation, that it takes a few things to successfully make the transition from American to Italian (besides speaking the language or carrying the passport) and they are the following:
1. Swathing yourself in leather
2. Mixing your browns! All shades can go together here! And black too!
3. Wearing heels. Always. And stomping them fiercely a la America's Next Top Model on the stones of Florence as you walk by.

So, the transition begins! We also had some fun taking photos around the Ponte Vecchio both day and night, and so the remainder of this post will be mostly photos, unless genius strikes me.

A small soliliquoy (sp?) on running in Florence: Yes, few do it. Most point and stare confusedly as you run past (running? expansive gesture--in Firenze? expansive gesture--but why? Prego??), though one enterprising young gentlemen did high-five me and that I appreciated! But, you do take your life in your hands; though, as someone who faced the dash of death in India, I feel that I'm up to the challenge. And more importantly, Martin is also up to the challenge of keeping me alive. Which, as we've discovered, is pretty much a 24/7 job. Thanks Martin!!

Ok: The Duomo as seen from an Alley:


A close up of a cool door I saw

Our cheese lady's cart in the local market. We have a cheese lady!


The Arno where I run, also some taken of/from bridges near the Ponte Vecchio

The Italian Language, or Not Just Adding an "O!"

The picture is of special agent Fredericko, or, as I sometimes like to call him, Irwin (Taken at our favorite pizza restaurant. Anyone who comes to visit will be eating here!).

So, more pictures of both of us to come soon as requested from Mom, and Martin has taken some WONDERFUL ones of the city and accidentally of me that are on his flicker site. One day I hope to have that link and when I do, as god as my witness, I will forward it on. Probably. After some editing.

But ok, so Martin and I have been struggling to pick up some Italian, any Italian, of any sort. We both keep reverting to terrible TERRIBLE French. We are working on convincing some poor local of some sort to teach us something. Help us out. PLEASE HELP US. But so far, nothing in the works. And our back up plan of becoming friends with Italians and learning the language that way has failed, in that there aren't any Italians actually in Florence. So, last night, after a truly awesome pizza we...just....gave up and spent some quality time planning our trip to Monaco. Martin has decided that he is going to buy a linen suit and some gold chains, while I myself will be unveiling a variety of cocktail dresses and possibly a fake southern accent. And, we will be inflicting our terrible French on the french people--long may they prosper! Bonjour! Ca Va! Oui! Way to be a language taught in the US Public School System! Whooo! (Or "Whuuuu!" if I was saying it in my fake French accent). We are super excited.

So tonight (wed) we are meeting our first friend! A Hungarian woman most recently from DC (she loves americans! we love people who love americans! adopt us!), we met her in the Piazza St. Croce after meeting her friends (random Irish and German students) in one of our local bars. We now talk to anyone near us who speaks any sort of English whether they want to meet us or not, and so we were invited by the aforementioned EU conglomorate to meet up with some more of their friends. And now we have a friend! It's all very exciting.

Anyway, below are some more random shots that may or may not be:
1. Taken from the window of my room
2. Of the Arno from the Ponte Vecchio
3. Martin

Ciao!

Becoming Italian: Part 1

Actually-
There is no becoming Italian so far. Florence is full of---foreigners! We are just but a few. The real Italians seem to have sensibly gone into hiding to avoid the pressing weight of tourists. But we are onto them! They cannot hide forever!

Our plan:
1. Talk to anyone sitting near us, in the hope that they will adopt us (has worked once so far!)
2. Take a cooking class, hopefully given by a local
3. Gesture expansively whenever trying to speak Italian (it helps!)
4. Purchase new shoes (not actually relevant, but fun!)
5. Address Martin as "Frederikco" in an attempt to sound local. (Note: This is only fun for me).

Pictures so far!
Sometimes you run around Arlington County Library on your morning job...sometimes, you around the Duomo!!

Then there are the frescos on your living room ceiling:

We have landed! And I have a phone number!

Business First: To reach me via phone you can call 393473847803, just add a 011 from the states in front of that.

Ok, quick statisticsò:
1. Number of gelato consumed today: 2
2. Number of gelato expected to consume today: 4
3. Number of Frescos on our ceiling: 1
4. Number of people I have accidentally run into or hit with an expansive gesture: 3
5. Level of awesomeness of Florence on a 1-10 scale: 11

After an amazing first class trip over for both myself and Dr. Irwin Fengelder (The name the flight attendant asked Martin to call himself when he was upgraded to 1st class after Irwin turned it down to stay in coach with his wife-thank you Delta!) we landed in Milan and ran for the train to Florence. We ended up paying for a eurostar train to Florence but got tickets for another train? Leaving at a different time? and were highly confused. Cue Martin leaving me with the bags (I could not actually lift my luggage and Martin had to strap me into everything and then prop me upright, I almost took out a few people while stumbling around) and racing back to the office 7 minutes before the eurostar left. Except there were two eurostar leaving at the same time to cities that were also not florence, but we asssumed florence was on the way. Long story short, we ended up running for the train, with both the conductor AND martin leveraging myself and my luggage up the stairs. After all of that, we took the first seats we saw and fell asleep...in first class. Which was great, except our tickets were for coach, as the conductor enlightened us later. We decided to pay for the upgrade, but did not have cash so....the conductor wandered off and forgot about us while searching for a credit card machine and we got to stay in first! yay!

Now we are here, and settling in. And Italy is amazing! And also, full of Americans. So far, Martin has discovered that I am not so talented at navigating or understanding the obvious. He has also discovered that at times he must act as translator, even when the original language he is translating is English. I have discovered that Martin is awesome, organized, and prepared. So far, a match made in heaven!

Best quotes so far:
"I am going to just sit back and fade into the pleather" -- Martin, as Dr. Irwin, trying to keep a low profile

"Speaking Italian is like doing an interpretive dance with your tongue!" -- Martin, after watching me try and speak Italian but coming out with a new language composed of bad french and even worse english.

On our way....from JFK!

Look! I rhymed!

I've already been traveling for too long and I haven't even gotten on the international flight yet, much less the train in Italy to get us safely from Milan to Florence. I'll probably only get sillier from here...I should warn Martin (Martin: Watch out!).

Anyway, we are flying Delta, which means standby, and this is Martin's first trip down that rabbit hole. I've already read him the standby code of ethics (My luggage will always be carry on, my bag will always be rolling etc) and he has practiced his first bout of lurking.

Note: Gate lurking is one of the key survival skills in any standby traveler's arsenal. It's right below packing light, and right above being capable of showering in an airport bathroom when standby goes bad.

Anyhoo--pictures posted are of Martin's first lurking. Ahhh....to be so young! (and clean!) We have good chances of making this flight, meaning that the lurking will not be in vain. BUT, we are both here so early that I don't even know where we stand. I will say, however, that the crowd waiting to go to Milan with us is....varied?...and....seasoned?.....and just ever so slightly grim. Though, that could be the fact that they are sitting in JFK.

So--this is Day .5 of our trip. However, it promises to be delightful--Martin handed me a travel guide when I arrived, and when I looked up and said: "We have to--" he finished my sentence with: "Go to the chocolate place that is in our neighborhood. Absolutely!"

Yay Martin! Yay Italy! Please be kind to us Delta!!

c.