Three Weeks in Italy

For our first big vacation in years, we spent three weeks in Italy, touring from Firenze in Toscana up to nearly the Austrian border in Südtirol and back to the airport in Firenze. On returning, we have a mixed bag of emotions and observations. We’re both tired, really tired, but happy to be at home. As always, home is the best place and we find comfort in our daily rituals. But there’s also a bit of sadness at having left.

Out on the Town in Pistoia

And there is some dissonance on returning as well. My full-size Tacoma seems huge and after weeks of driving a 6-speed manual, I keep trying to put the clutch in and shift gears. Gas here is cheap and plentiful, the roads are incredibly wide and straight, and parking is ample and mostly free. Americans have it so good in many respects. On the other hand, slowing our lives and getting around on foot, bike, or scooter is nearly impossible with our car culture.

We always hope when we go on vacation for it to be one of the best times of our lives. This trip, sad as it is to say, was a mixed bag of highs and lows, a C-level experience rather than the A-level experience we had hoped for.

In part, the weather wreaked havoc on our plans. Three days were rained out with greater than 1.5 inches of rain and we forfeited two prepaid nights to relocate in hopes of avoiding another monsoon day. Other days were with showers. In short, it wasn’t the glorious fall weather of our dreams.

In part, the stress of driving the crazy Italian roads (save for the really nice autostrade—toll roads) and the stress of finding parking and understanding the gas pumps left us wiped out certain days. Maybe the choice of rental car wasn’t the best. Maybe public transport would have been the smarter choice, but that has its own limitations. Maybe dealing with a rental car was karma smacking us down for approaching getting around like Americans.

In part, the overwhelming crush of tourists in places, in Bologna but most notably in Firenze, was not expected and marred some days. In Firenze, we heard more Americans than any other people. Damn it; we were there—quite naively it seems—to get away from our countrymen. And I fear we might be showing our age. The hordes of Instagram influencer-wannabes alternately filming themselves and walking, oblivious to their surroundings, heads down in their phones, ruined a lot of Florence and a bit of Bologna. I could not help but feel that Firenze was a medieval-themed Disney attraction somewhere in Southern California.

On the plus side, the quality of the food and wine far surpassed my expectations, even food at totally random restaurants and cheap bottles of supermarket wine. Moreover, food and wine are surprisingly inexpensive in Italy especially compared to Bend. As foodies who live in a highly tourist-focused (or, -plagued?) town, we expected the subpar and overpriced food and drink that our restaurants serve. Italy is a foodie paradise by comparison.

Also, there is something extremely attractive and vibrant about day-to-day life in Italy that we don’t have here. Life is slower there. Dining is a daily happening and not a special occasion. Gathering for food and drinks outdoors on the piazzas and sidewalks is expected. Two- and three-hour meals are normal. Public spaces are everywhere; you’ll find small piazzas and courtyards in all neighborhoods and in the most unexpected places. And people will be living in those spaces: kicking soccer balls, chatting up the neighbors, or having a coffee. We loved this.

The architecture and antiquity surrounding us the entire trip was mind blowing. Italy is ancient and beautiful in a way that America is not. And it is small, dense, and compact in a way that America is not. The contrast to a country which values bigger, newer, and more could not be more obvious.

We had great highlights as counterpoints to the lows. Among these highlights: Staying with friends Lyn and Neal in a minuscule village in Pistoia, our entire stay in brilliant and gorgeous Verona, meeting and sharing our table with several Germans in a Biergarten in Dorf Tirol, and escaping the tourist madness in Firenze at first a backstreet wine bar and then at a fine off-the-beaten-path restaurant where we finished our evening.

Ann and I value the Italian lifestyle and we aimed to live the country as natives, hence our dismay in Florence being surrounded by hordes of Americans as if we were at Disneyland. Often we felt our hosts open up and welcome us as we would try to speak a little Italian, as we would ask for their guidance in choosing local foods and wines that we could not experience elsewhere, and as we asked about their culture and the things that they value about their towns. These small interactions were great and we sought them. The Italians reciprocated.

Even though we tried fitting in while there, in reflecting on the trip, I recognize our American point of view in some small things. I’m not really being serious here, but really Italy, what is up with duvets rather than sheets, why no salt in Tuscan bread, and for the love of caffeine, why cannot I get a Texas-sized mug of joe?

I must say that Italians dress really well. Or many more of them do than in the States. I’m talking about women put together like Jackie O or men like Stanley Tucci. I’m not talking about black-clad teenagers here, but people of a certain age. On the other hand, I’ve never seen so many down jackets at 70 degrees (oops, I meant 21 degrees) when I’m wearing a short-sleeved shirt. Yeah, Italy, winter is coming, but not for weeks.

I offer one final observation, one that Ann and I ended up laughing about often. Let’s call it spaghetti engineering. This is the practice whereby highway engineers (an oxymoron in Italy) apparently throw pieces of spaghetti at a map when planning a road. Where the spaghetti falls on the map, they trace it—coils, loops, squiggles, and all. This then becomes the course for the road.

I have never seen more “creative” roads in my life. Or ever encountered the GPS telling me to take the next right, only to see that the next right is merely where three roads come together on the right, offering three different options of right. Or coming up to a roundabout with a left-turn lane that takes you one version of left while following the roundabout three-quarters around to the right in the customary fashion takes you another but different left. Good thing I’m mostly bald anyway.

This trip to Europe in my 60s, and my first to Italy, was very different from my prior trips. This time, I didn’t need to see and do everything. I was happy to let things come to me and not worry about things I didn’t have the time, energy, health, or opportunity to see and do. Previously, I would go all day, every day, exhausting myself while fretting about ticking all the boxes.

This go-with-the-flow approach was good, for it seemed at times that nothing really went our way. If we couldn’t find the positive under any circumstances, this trip might have been a total downer. We executed Plan B a lot and even Plan C at times. While not Plan A, the backup plans proved to be OK choices.

The upside is that without worrying about missing things, I found myself a lot more present in the things I was doing and enjoying my time with Ann. I found it more important to sit in a cafe with Ann and linger over a glass of wine than to be in hurry-up mode rushing to see another sight. I was able to enjoy watching Netflix on a rainy day without worrying about missing anything. It’s a good way to live.

Our trip would start in Tuscany with a stay with Dyce's stepfather and mother in Pistoia. Then we would start heading north, visiting Modena and Bologna in Emilia-Romagna, then Verona and Lake Garda in the Veneto, followed by a week in Trentino-Alto Adige/Südtirol, capped off with two nights in Firenze back in Tuscany before heading home. Because of massive rain up north, we cut our stay in Alto Adige short by two days and drove south to Ferrara instead, before heading to Firenze.

I'm happy to be home but also looking forward to our next trip. I do believe that we will go back to Italy; there is so much more of the country to see. And I think we will give Firenze another chance. I do want to see the gardens there that we missed on this trip.

Here then are the links to the individual posts recounting our trip:

Italy Day 1, En Route: Are We There Yet?
Italy Day 2, Pistoia: Market Day and Jet Lag
Italy Day 3, Pistoia: A Fabulous Night Out

Italy Day 4, Castelfranco: Battling Italian Drivers
Italy Day 5, Modena: Learning About Tigelle
Italy Day 6, Bologna: A Wonderful Sunday
Italy Day 7, Verona: Celebrating our Anniversary
Italy Day 8, Verona: Exploring the Centro Storico
Italy Day 9, Brenzone sul Garda: Stressful Rainy Travel Day
Italy Day 10, Brenzone sul Garda: Netflix and Naps
Italy Day 11, Dorf Tirol: A Hateful Travel Day
Italy Day 12, Dorf Tirol: A Steep Walk
Italy Day 13, Dorf Tirol: Naturpark Texelgruppe
Italy Day 14, Dorf Tirol: Trinken mit den Schlössern
Italy Day 15, Dorf Tirol: A Birthday in the Clouds
Italy Day 16, Ferrara: Escaping the Rain
Italy Day 17, Ferrara: Exploring the Centro Storico
Italy Day 18, Firenze: Arrivederci Mosquitoes, Buongiorno Americans
Italy Day 19, Firenze: Last Day in Italy
Italy Day 20: Heading Home
Bonus Post: Architectural Embellishments of Italy