DATELINE: Rome
Two old people, husband and wife, were found beaten silly in the streets of Rome.
No foul play is suspected as the wounds appear to be self-inflicted.
Witnesses interviewed at the scene observed the foreign couple leaving the Office
of the Questura, apparently having futilely attempted to renew their Permesso Di
Soggiorno (Permission to Stay) documents. They both were redfaced, sweaty and
cursing a blue streak, walking unsteadily and carrying wads of official documents,
with four copies of each, except those that required THREE copies, and the one that
required a special little colorful stamp purchased at the tobacco shop.
They seemed to be muttering to each other furiously. The muttering escalated to
shouting and one witness said he distinctly heard several expletives bantered back
and forth before the woman finally cried out, "I know you are, but what am I!"
Moments later, sticks were produced and the whacking began.
Emergency personnel were called to the scene and were attempting to disarm the
couple and tend to their bumps and bruises. Apparently, this was hampered by the
woman screaming over and over, "I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore!"
She finally passed out, whimpering "There's no place like home...there's no place
like home..." and repeatedly clicking together the heels of her crocs.
The Man seemed more coherent. When asked if he was suffering any pain he displayed
his ten fingers and said, "My fingerprints haven't changed in the past two years
since you digitally fingerprinted me, you mother------s!" No one could make sense
of what he was saying and it was unanimously agreed that he had a head injury.
Tonight they are recovering in the psych ward reserved for foreigners who have the
audacity to think they can just march in to the office they marched into two years
ago, and just get their supposedly digitized, computerized Permesso's renewed.
They thought they could just breeze in and out, like they were in a first world
country instead of a medieval third world insane asylum running on corruption and
nepotism. They thought that perhaps with the advent of the computer in the last
century, the bureaucrats of Italy might have deigned to put into place systems to
actually assist people instead of running them into an early grave trying to comply
with archaic and undecipherable rules and regulations.
How ridiculous these foreigners are! Where do they think they are? Somewhere
culturally sophisticated? HA! This isn't CIVILIZATION! This is ITALIA!!
These foreigners must be taught a lesson! If they want employees who care (a
concept known as "customer service," which has no equivalent in this Godforsaken
country; if they want streamlined systems to expedite bureaucracy; if they want to
save the trees, instead of making endless/needless copies of documents that serve
absolutely NO purpose and will end up in some big dark storage room somewhere in
the depths of Rome; if they want to spend their days freely doing whatever it is
they do here, instead of traipsing all over the place, shuffling from one official
office to another, traveling in crowded, airless, filthy buses and trams, given the
runaround by polyester-uniformed sadistic lackies who got their job because their
daddy's friend worked there; if they want to make something as simple as a
stinkin' telephone call to an office to CHANGE their appointment date because
they're not going to be in this country on June whatever!...
then they should go to...Switzerland!
Monday, April 12, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
A Two Hour Tour!
This may or may not be my last post about our vacation to Sapri.
I can't decide.
The problem is threefold. One, I obviously don't get enough vacations. Two, I took
a lot (as in hundreds) of photos and I keep thinking someone might enjoy them. (Kind
of like when you'd go visit Uncle Phil and Aunt Millie and they'd insist on pulling out
the old projector and screen and insist that everyone sit and watch an unending slide
show documenting every breathing moment of their Winnebago trip to Lubbock in
ought 87, or whatever, and everyone's head would start lolling around and your Dad
would yell about it all the way home at, like, two o'clock in the morning.)
And, three, I really miss Sapri and seem unable to let it go.
So, bear with me.
On Easter Sunday we were walking along the beach sidewalk in Sapri when we ran into some
guy trying to rustle up some business for his boat tour. At first, we just walked past him,
but then we got to thinking maybe a ride in a boat on this glorious day would be a good idea.
Now, whenever The Man and I both agree that something is a good idea...well, that's when
Godzilla should show up and just step on us.
But, evidently, Godzilla was busy officiating at the annual Sapri Easter egg hunt. So,
without any supervision at all, off we went. And, the rest is history...a history of joyous
thanksgiving to be alive on terra firma.
It was all good until...well...until we seemed to just keep going and going with no clear
indication that we would EVER turn around and get back to our point of embarkation.
The passengers were all unremarkable EXCEPT for the woman who started throwing
up almost immediately. Luckily, Captain Mario had a bucket on board. This poor
woman had been, prior to boarding the boat, laying in the sun drinking herself into a
state of oblivion. I wasn't aware of the "oblivion" part until things became apparent.
Anyway, she got sick quickly. We all sort of accepted her "sea-sickness" with good
humor and sympathy. However, after many hours of endless boating and watching
her condition deteriorate, Captain Mario prudently decided to change heading to the
nearest port for a medical evacuation. At this point, I was on the floor of the boat
holding the woman, trying to keep the blue tarp wrapped around her and to give her
some of my body warmth because she was shaking so badly her teeth were chattering.
When we arrived at the port of Scario (which we have no photos of because I thought it
would look slightly callous to start filming what seemed to be an extremely serious
situation - I actually thought she might be dying!) the ambulance was waiting...along
with a major portion of the population of this small village where nothing much happens,
I guess.
There was a flurry of excitement. The seemingly comatose, once happily inebriated
land-lubber was placed on a gurney and wheeled into the waiting ambulance, official-
looking men in uniforms were waving their hands around, Mario jumped back and
forth from the boat to shore to offer explanations and, all the while, the townspeople
stared down at us like we were all guilty of something and should be punished. No one
smiled at us...even the children looked pissed off!
And then, suddenly, we were back at sea on our way (we prayed) to Sapri...to shore...
to our hotels...or homes...our loved ones...our pets...children...dinner...pizza!
So, anyway, I put THIS MOVIE together and I hope you like it.
Oh, and if you're planning a trip to this region, do take Mario's boat tour. It is definitely
worth the price of admission. I would go again even knowing that I might not see land,
a toilet, a bottle of water, or a life vest...again!
(I'm serious! I was without a bathroom for over FIVE hours! An Easter miracle!!!)
Oh, and The Man thinks my references to Gilligan's Island are stupid because he never
likes it when something is compared to something on television or in the movies. But,
I think most people still remember the premise of that show and, to me, it is applicable.
In fact, during our interminable cruise, using the passengers on our boat, I was able to
cast the entire show: The Skipper (obviously, Mario), Gilligan, (another obvious choice),
The Professor, Mr. and Mrs. Howe, Mary Ann and, even, Ginger!
And, just so you know, the sick lady (aka Mary Ann) survived and is back home counting
her lucky stars.
I can't decide.
The problem is threefold. One, I obviously don't get enough vacations. Two, I took
a lot (as in hundreds) of photos and I keep thinking someone might enjoy them. (Kind
of like when you'd go visit Uncle Phil and Aunt Millie and they'd insist on pulling out
the old projector and screen and insist that everyone sit and watch an unending slide
show documenting every breathing moment of their Winnebago trip to Lubbock in
ought 87, or whatever, and everyone's head would start lolling around and your Dad
would yell about it all the way home at, like, two o'clock in the morning.)
And, three, I really miss Sapri and seem unable to let it go.
So, bear with me.
On Easter Sunday we were walking along the beach sidewalk in Sapri when we ran into some
guy trying to rustle up some business for his boat tour. At first, we just walked past him,
but then we got to thinking maybe a ride in a boat on this glorious day would be a good idea.
Now, whenever The Man and I both agree that something is a good idea...well, that's when
Godzilla should show up and just step on us.
But, evidently, Godzilla was busy officiating at the annual Sapri Easter egg hunt. So,
without any supervision at all, off we went. And, the rest is history...a history of joyous
thanksgiving to be alive on terra firma.
It was all good until...well...until we seemed to just keep going and going with no clear
indication that we would EVER turn around and get back to our point of embarkation.
The passengers were all unremarkable EXCEPT for the woman who started throwing
up almost immediately. Luckily, Captain Mario had a bucket on board. This poor
woman had been, prior to boarding the boat, laying in the sun drinking herself into a
state of oblivion. I wasn't aware of the "oblivion" part until things became apparent.
Anyway, she got sick quickly. We all sort of accepted her "sea-sickness" with good
humor and sympathy. However, after many hours of endless boating and watching
her condition deteriorate, Captain Mario prudently decided to change heading to the
nearest port for a medical evacuation. At this point, I was on the floor of the boat
holding the woman, trying to keep the blue tarp wrapped around her and to give her
some of my body warmth because she was shaking so badly her teeth were chattering.
When we arrived at the port of Scario (which we have no photos of because I thought it
would look slightly callous to start filming what seemed to be an extremely serious
situation - I actually thought she might be dying!) the ambulance was waiting...along
with a major portion of the population of this small village where nothing much happens,
I guess.
There was a flurry of excitement. The seemingly comatose, once happily inebriated
land-lubber was placed on a gurney and wheeled into the waiting ambulance, official-
looking men in uniforms were waving their hands around, Mario jumped back and
forth from the boat to shore to offer explanations and, all the while, the townspeople
stared down at us like we were all guilty of something and should be punished. No one
smiled at us...even the children looked pissed off!
And then, suddenly, we were back at sea on our way (we prayed) to Sapri...to shore...
to our hotels...or homes...our loved ones...our pets...children...dinner...pizza!
So, anyway, I put THIS MOVIE together and I hope you like it.
Oh, and if you're planning a trip to this region, do take Mario's boat tour. It is definitely
worth the price of admission. I would go again even knowing that I might not see land,
a toilet, a bottle of water, or a life vest...again!
(I'm serious! I was without a bathroom for over FIVE hours! An Easter miracle!!!)
Oh, and The Man thinks my references to Gilligan's Island are stupid because he never
likes it when something is compared to something on television or in the movies. But,
I think most people still remember the premise of that show and, to me, it is applicable.
In fact, during our interminable cruise, using the passengers on our boat, I was able to
cast the entire show: The Skipper (obviously, Mario), Gilligan, (another obvious choice),
The Professor, Mr. and Mrs. Howe, Mary Ann and, even, Ginger!
And, just so you know, the sick lady (aka Mary Ann) survived and is back home counting
her lucky stars.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Re: Patient No. STU123PID
Dear Doctor Slash Candy Man:
I need to double up the dosage on my cholesterol meds. Yesterday I cut myself and
I didn't bleed. Instead, pasta dough oozed out of my veins.
Also, as long as you're writing out some script, gimme a good diet pill, too, because
I've gained about 184 pounds, my thighs have grafted together and I'm starting to
walk like a penguin. My double chin has quadrupled which, I guess, is a bad thing,
but I am finding the folds of fat useful as places to stick my sunglasses, a pen, and
even lose change.
You're probably wondering how this dietary derailment could possibly have happened.
Well, it wasn't my fault, I can assure you!
The Man MADE me go with him to southern Italy and he MADE me go into these
restaurants and eat an amazing array of carbohydrate-ridden foods and milk-derived
products that were all incredibly fresh, like right out of the goat, or cow, or water
buffalo, or sheep (yes, they milk sheep here!) all washed down with jugs of local wine
from grapes kissed by the gods of various volcanoes biding their time until the next
eruption because, like me, those volcanoes are ready to blow!
He MADE me eat every bite and wipe my plate clean of
every drop of precious olive oil, suck the juice out of every
mussel shell, and lick the ice-cold limoncello liqueur from
my chubby fingers in the style of Mme Hortense in the
movie Zorba the Greek which is really sickening and unfair
because The Man got to be Marcello Mastroianni throughout.
Anyway, I'm so innocent!
To help you better understand what has occurred, I've constructed THIS VIDEO
documenting the horrors of what I had to endure during my ride on this culinary
train wreck.
Help me!
As ever, I remain, dear doctor, your humble and most obedient patient,
M
I need to double up the dosage on my cholesterol meds. Yesterday I cut myself and
I didn't bleed. Instead, pasta dough oozed out of my veins.
Also, as long as you're writing out some script, gimme a good diet pill, too, because
I've gained about 184 pounds, my thighs have grafted together and I'm starting to
walk like a penguin. My double chin has quadrupled which, I guess, is a bad thing,
but I am finding the folds of fat useful as places to stick my sunglasses, a pen, and
even lose change.
You're probably wondering how this dietary derailment could possibly have happened.
Well, it wasn't my fault, I can assure you!
The Man MADE me go with him to southern Italy and he MADE me go into these
restaurants and eat an amazing array of carbohydrate-ridden foods and milk-derived
products that were all incredibly fresh, like right out of the goat, or cow, or water
buffalo, or sheep (yes, they milk sheep here!) all washed down with jugs of local wine
from grapes kissed by the gods of various volcanoes biding their time until the next
eruption because, like me, those volcanoes are ready to blow!
He MADE me eat every bite and wipe my plate clean ofevery drop of precious olive oil, suck the juice out of every
mussel shell, and lick the ice-cold limoncello liqueur from
my chubby fingers in the style of Mme Hortense in the
movie Zorba the Greek which is really sickening and unfair
because The Man got to be Marcello Mastroianni throughout.
Anyway, I'm so innocent!
To help you better understand what has occurred, I've constructed THIS VIDEO
documenting the horrors of what I had to endure during my ride on this culinary
train wreck.
Help me!
As ever, I remain, dear doctor, your humble and most obedient patient,
M
Saturday, April 3, 2010
La Certosa di San Lorenzo
Admittedly, I am a lousy video filmer person.
I'm video-camera challenged. For example, in the video linked below, there's a brief
segment where you have to turn your head 90 degrees to the right in order to view
it because I was filming longways and forgot that that is a no-no because there's no
way to turn things around after the fact, and you should have been there to see my
face as I made that realization whilst I was filming! D'ough!
In addition, I think my camera is a little dud.
I also don't know how to add music, which would really be nice.
So, pardon my bad filming, but enjoy the content.
I'm taking you back to the year 1306 when a guy named Tommaso di San Severino,
decided to build a Carthusian Monastery in a town called Padula. Actually, he was
the Lord around these parts, so he could build the monastery wherever he wanted,
but he chose Padula and I'm glad he did because...well...I'm here...and because it's
in a gorgeous setting in the Vallo Di Diano, a great valley surrounded with huge
mountains and gorges and rivers and sheep and cows with bells on.
They dedicated the monastery to Saint Lawrence and named it "La Certosa di
San Lorenzo." (Just so you know, Saint Lawrence was one of the first bishops of
Rome and when he was martyred by grilling over hot coals, he yelled out "I'm
done on this side, turn me over and have a bite!" Which is why Saint Lawrence
is the patron saint of comedians to this very day.)
The Carthusians are an order of hermit monks. They pretty much just meditate all
the time, not leaving their cells except for study in the library, some manual labor
and maybe taking a walk or something to get the kinks out.
Other than that, they live in silent isolation.
The history of La Certosa di San Lorenzo is one of great prosperity and inevitable
decline. The political winds blew by...so did Napoleon Bonaparte. (The winds
merely ruffled some feathers, Napoleon stole the artwork). In 1807 and then again
in 1866 the place was abandoned. It was declared a National Monument in 1882.
It was also used as a prison camp during the two world wars. Finally, after some
restoration, it was reopened to the public in 1982. It is now a World Heritage Site.
I've decided that this is the most beautiful and astonishing place I've seen in all
my years in Italy. I'm serious. As we traipsed around the grand interior of the
monastery I had to constantly grab hold of my chin and push my mouth closed,
I couldn't stop gaping and oooing and ahhhing, like the village idiot allowed inside
to observe greatness. I was properly speechless, awestruck, amazed and delighted.
But, it was so incredibly beautiful, the aesthetics of the design, the architecture, the
art work, the intricate woodwork on doors and chorus stalls, the brightly colored
marble mosaics, the frescoed ceilings and walls, the majolica and terracotta floors,
the tranquility in the courtyards and cloisters...in the gardens...and it all went on
and on, corridor after corridor, room after room.
The kitchen was astounding. The marble balustrades were extraordinary. The
one-of-a-kind spiral marble staircase (like a giant conch shell) which leads to the
library was off limits, unfortunately, but I did take a photo looking up into it and
it's all in the video.
In fact, just watch THE VIDEO. I'm all out of adjectives.
Oh, and as you'll see in the film, the day's adventure ends with a meal. Naturally!
We were famished after all that wonderment and found a local trattoria where
three local men eating there assured us that 1) the local white wine was better
than the red, 2) we should order fish (they were all eating the octopus) because
"you eat fish on Good Friday," and 3) the food is better here than in Rome.
They were right on all counts.
(Oh, and the pasta pictured is handmade fusilli, the pasta from this region, with clams.
It was better than okay.)
Enjoy the film.
I'm video-camera challenged. For example, in the video linked below, there's a brief
segment where you have to turn your head 90 degrees to the right in order to view
it because I was filming longways and forgot that that is a no-no because there's no
way to turn things around after the fact, and you should have been there to see my
face as I made that realization whilst I was filming! D'ough!
In addition, I think my camera is a little dud.
I also don't know how to add music, which would really be nice.
So, pardon my bad filming, but enjoy the content.
I'm taking you back to the year 1306 when a guy named Tommaso di San Severino,
decided to build a Carthusian Monastery in a town called Padula. Actually, he was
the Lord around these parts, so he could build the monastery wherever he wanted,
but he chose Padula and I'm glad he did because...well...I'm here...and because it's
in a gorgeous setting in the Vallo Di Diano, a great valley surrounded with huge
mountains and gorges and rivers and sheep and cows with bells on.
They dedicated the monastery to Saint Lawrence and named it "La Certosa di
San Lorenzo." (Just so you know, Saint Lawrence was one of the first bishops of
Rome and when he was martyred by grilling over hot coals, he yelled out "I'm
done on this side, turn me over and have a bite!" Which is why Saint Lawrence
is the patron saint of comedians to this very day.)
The Carthusians are an order of hermit monks. They pretty much just meditate all
the time, not leaving their cells except for study in the library, some manual labor
and maybe taking a walk or something to get the kinks out.
Other than that, they live in silent isolation.
The history of La Certosa di San Lorenzo is one of great prosperity and inevitable
decline. The political winds blew by...so did Napoleon Bonaparte. (The winds
merely ruffled some feathers, Napoleon stole the artwork). In 1807 and then again
in 1866 the place was abandoned. It was declared a National Monument in 1882.
It was also used as a prison camp during the two world wars. Finally, after some
restoration, it was reopened to the public in 1982. It is now a World Heritage Site.
I've decided that this is the most beautiful and astonishing place I've seen in all
my years in Italy. I'm serious. As we traipsed around the grand interior of the
monastery I had to constantly grab hold of my chin and push my mouth closed,
I couldn't stop gaping and oooing and ahhhing, like the village idiot allowed inside
to observe greatness. I was properly speechless, awestruck, amazed and delighted.
But, it was so incredibly beautiful, the aesthetics of the design, the architecture, the
art work, the intricate woodwork on doors and chorus stalls, the brightly colored
marble mosaics, the frescoed ceilings and walls, the majolica and terracotta floors,
the tranquility in the courtyards and cloisters...in the gardens...and it all went on
and on, corridor after corridor, room after room.
The kitchen was astounding. The marble balustrades were extraordinary. The
one-of-a-kind spiral marble staircase (like a giant conch shell) which leads to the
library was off limits, unfortunately, but I did take a photo looking up into it and
it's all in the video.
In fact, just watch THE VIDEO. I'm all out of adjectives.
Oh, and as you'll see in the film, the day's adventure ends with a meal. Naturally!
We were famished after all that wonderment and found a local trattoria where
three local men eating there assured us that 1) the local white wine was better
than the red, 2) we should order fish (they were all eating the octopus) because
"you eat fish on Good Friday," and 3) the food is better here than in Rome.
They were right on all counts.
(Oh, and the pasta pictured is handmade fusilli, the pasta from this region, with clams.
It was better than okay.)
Enjoy the film.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Travel Log Blog
We have made our way south to the Bay of Policastro, to the town of Sapri for an
Easter Getaway.
It's not our first time here. We always come here when we want some seashore
action. I think this is our fourth or fifth time. Our hotel is right on the beach, the
staff has changed, but they're always welcoming and very kind. They used to be
open before Easter and that's when we'd show up. But, now they don't open until
the Easter weekend. That means there are other guests here, but we don't mind.
We still got the best room in the house with a terrazza that overlooks the sea.
Google maps says it takes about 4 hours and 55 minutes to get here from Roma.
We took 8 hours. Well, we had to stop several times for a caffe and also to eat lunch
and also to stretch...hey, we're old people!
Anyway, I want to show you how wonderful this part of Italy is. I love it here.
This area south of Naples. Campania. Basilicata. The National Park of Cilento.
This VIDEO shows where we stopped for lunch, just off the main highway, at
what seemed to be a truck stop. Well, these truckers know how to eat, let me
tell you. As you will see from the photos, it's a far cry from the normal fare for
truckers in the U.S.
This little ristorante appeared and we both thought, hmmmm....there's cars
and trucks there...must be good...let's go there...
Well, first we ordered the vegetariano antipasto. I've never tasted such a
delectable selection of vegetables and cheeses...the mozzerella di buffala was
fabulous and the goat cheese!!! The sundried tomatoes in oil, the bit of omelette
and polenta, the peppers, the eggplant...Oh!
Then, I ordered the pappardelle with ceci (garbanzo beans). Heaven! Just look
at those little ceci beans sitting there all happy and everything!
The Man ordered a mixture of orrechiette (little ears) pasta and ravioli in an amazing
meat sauce of some kind.
We washed it down with a quarto (fourth) of vino della casa (wine of the house).
Mamma mia!
Then I walked outside and around the back and saw the source of some of our
meal. The pen of goats and chickens and ducks and turkeys and I don't know
what all. This place also had orchards for nuts and apples. Olive trees for the
best olive oil.
Then we got in the car and wound our way down into Sapri and the Med and
our hotel and our room and ... well, watch the video.
I'm going to post again tomorrow. We're going to explore the Cilento!
It's springtime and we're out of Roma!
Easter Getaway.
It's not our first time here. We always come here when we want some seashore
action. I think this is our fourth or fifth time. Our hotel is right on the beach, the
staff has changed, but they're always welcoming and very kind. They used to be
open before Easter and that's when we'd show up. But, now they don't open until
the Easter weekend. That means there are other guests here, but we don't mind.
We still got the best room in the house with a terrazza that overlooks the sea.
Google maps says it takes about 4 hours and 55 minutes to get here from Roma.
We took 8 hours. Well, we had to stop several times for a caffe and also to eat lunch
and also to stretch...hey, we're old people!
Anyway, I want to show you how wonderful this part of Italy is. I love it here.
This area south of Naples. Campania. Basilicata. The National Park of Cilento.
This VIDEO shows where we stopped for lunch, just off the main highway, at
what seemed to be a truck stop. Well, these truckers know how to eat, let me
tell you. As you will see from the photos, it's a far cry from the normal fare for
truckers in the U.S.
This little ristorante appeared and we both thought, hmmmm....there's cars
and trucks there...must be good...let's go there...
Well, first we ordered the vegetariano antipasto. I've never tasted such a
delectable selection of vegetables and cheeses...the mozzerella di buffala was
fabulous and the goat cheese!!! The sundried tomatoes in oil, the bit of omelette
and polenta, the peppers, the eggplant...Oh!
Then, I ordered the pappardelle with ceci (garbanzo beans). Heaven! Just look
at those little ceci beans sitting there all happy and everything!
The Man ordered a mixture of orrechiette (little ears) pasta and ravioli in an amazing
meat sauce of some kind.
We washed it down with a quarto (fourth) of vino della casa (wine of the house).
Mamma mia!
Then I walked outside and around the back and saw the source of some of our
meal. The pen of goats and chickens and ducks and turkeys and I don't know
what all. This place also had orchards for nuts and apples. Olive trees for the
best olive oil.
Then we got in the car and wound our way down into Sapri and the Med and
our hotel and our room and ... well, watch the video.
I'm going to post again tomorrow. We're going to explore the Cilento!
It's springtime and we're out of Roma!
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