This is Jeff Okubo. Today we traveled from
Rome to
Florence.
We woke up this morning in Shambles. Jeff had carried Russ home at eleven. Nick and Chanda arrived half drunk at 1:00 am and Doug and Todd had arrived at about 4:00 am in only a slightly inebriated state. It was Sunday, so most places were closed including the parking garage where the rovers were parked. It was a good thing that in Rome the businesses are intertwined with the homes because we were able to knock on doors and wake people into action.
This as well as other events succeed in chasing us out of Rome. Our efforts to be politically sensitive throughout the expedition came to an end as we let our guard down in Rome and all of our devils took charge. Our hosts were eager to get rid of us, like a house-cleaner sweeping away unwanted dust balls.
After finally getting the Rovers released we checked our mail one last time at Papa Germanos. Although we didn't stay there Papa turned out to be our last friend in Rome. Papa Germano offered us great travel tips. He told us of a few landmarks that should not be missed including Spoleto and St. Francis de Assisi. Nick and I looked at each other and knew visiting these places would be a hard sell to the rest of the team but at the same time we realized the importance of this stop from the look on Papa Germanos face, and our own feelings of Italy.
We learned that the island of Cyprus contained an authorized Mini-M satellite phone repair center but, even with repair relatively close in terms of shipping, we didn’t send it off. Nick’s rationale, we’re in the West, we can use land lines to phone in our daily journals. So the satellite phone antennae repair fiasco came to a close. Nick’s new visa cards arrived at Papa Germano’s place as well. This took some coordination. He reported them missing in Athens and gave Papa’s address knowing we’d be here in a few days.
Papa directed us out of the city and on to the Motorway. Despite the rain, the sites of Italy were breathe-taking. It was nice to have Russ along. He offered new perspective and a new style of negotiation. As we traveled we looked at the rolling hills and listened to Chanda as she vocalized a Roald Dald novel that was later made into a movie; Hitchcok’s The Man From Rio starring Peter Lorre and Steve McQueen but we know it best from Quentin Tarantino’s Four Rooms.
Although it was December, fall greeted us with its splendor. Green graceful hillsides provided a beautiful canvas for the deep autumnal colors that were forming a quilt upon the sleepy ground. The sites of Italy were breathtaking. Between the colorful leaves and the flowing hillsides lay sleepy medieval towns reminding the passersby of their long history.
We followed Papa Germano’s advice and headed into Spoleto, a medieval town lying on a hillside. It was a new world driving between the towering structures on the narrow streets. We were thrilled to have such narrow vehicles, despite their turning radius. True to form we did not know exactly where we were headed, so we just drove. We made it into the town center and decided to look around for something to eat. There were several places to choose from, but Russ and I opted for the calmer cafe, where as the rest of the team chose the in and out pizza.
Russ was a great ear as we talked about how the trip was going and each other was doing. One of the things I enjoy most about Russ is that you never know where conversation will go. He is interested in most things and there is almost no fear or intimidation between us.
Doug and Jeff soon joined us, and we all waited for Nick and Chanda. Not to much after Jeff and Doug arrived an Italian man sat down next to us, sporting a cup of coffee. He seemed interested in us, as he quickly detected that we were not from the area. He greeted us in Italian and we greeted him back with the Italian we knew. The conversation seemed strained at first. We searched for words like kids looking for lost coins. I knew a fair amount of Spanish and some French, but virtually no Italian. Russ had studied Latin at one time and Tony had probably seen a couple of American movies. However, since we had a desire to communicate, this was a wealth of tools.
Like so many past conversations, we communicated with a variety of hand gestures, diagrams, word associations and inferences. Between Spanish and French I was able to get us on the right track and Russ was the able to hold his own with his great personal sense, in many cases he could just sense what Tony wanted to say. We all wore smiles and nodded a lot. At times we just simply wanted to shout with joy upon receiving a simple thought.
For me this is one of the great joys of traveling. There is something about being in a foreign land that makes people more interesting. Perhaps it is the less threatening nature of a traveler. It seems to me that often times it is easier to talk to traveler than your own countryman, in a social situation, such as a pub or a public square. Perhaps travelers take people out of their funk. An encounter with a traveler is out of the ordinary and thus spawns conversation that would not otherwise happen. It seems to that people are always searching for things to converse about. Back home, common topics revolve around the weather, entertainment, and sports. These are all safe topics, but seem rather repetitive after a while. Talking to travelers brings out many twists and turns in a conversation and it’s these twists and turns that are interesting. From the onset vocabulary has to be changed in order to communicate; this is the first thing that marks a difference between day-to-day conversations. It is also necessary to place aside allusions and reference points. Maybe I should take into consideration the fact that we were in Italy, a culture known for its overt gregariousness.
After awhile Nick and Chanda emerged from wherever they were. We said our good-byes and were once again on the road. When you are traveling in an unfamiliar area road signs are always challenges. We were ultimately destined for Florence but the road signs did not direct us to Florence (Firenze). They frequently announced smaller towns that were many kilometers before Florence. In this way we could get on a wrong road and be on it for a while without knowing we were going the wrong way. We had good maps throughout Asia, but it seemed as though our maps had petered out and left us with only a very general Western Europe Lonely planet book.
St. Christopher was on our side this evening and we chose wisely at all junctions. We soon found ourselves on the outskirts of Florence trying to decide what off ramp would give us the best odds of finding a place to stay for the evening.
We finally got back on the road as the sun was going down. Without too much trouble we were following road signs to Firenze. As we neared the city we cracked open the Lonely Planet Western Europe book and looked for some guidance in hotel location. The book was not very detailed so we decided that we should either exit near the city center, or follow signs pointing toward the airport. Hotels are always near both of these places.
St Christopher was again throwing a friendly smile our way as we found a block containing several hotels to choose from. The hotel that we ended up with was beautiful. It looked like a museum inside; huge portraits hung on finely decorated walls. Flowers were strategically placed on small tables like sentries near each stair landing. High vaulted ceilings and large rooms to boot. Doug, Jeff, Russ and I took what seemed like a dorm room. It had tall ceilings, four beds, and felt like we were in a cultured spot despite our humor and rugged demeanor.
We placed our stuff in the room, claimed and tested our respective nests and soon came out for dinner. Once out into the night air and glad to have stopped driving for the evening, we had an eagerness to explore. We headed down the dark Italian streets looking for a place to eat. Deciding on an eating-place is not always easy. We knew that we might have a limited selection and we had no idea what was in the vicinity of our hotel. Of course we could always get in the trucks and drive a bit but, not wanting to drive any longer, our feet generally took us where we needed to go.
We finally ended up at a bar that served sandwiches. Most of us were taken in by the AC/DC concert that was blaring on the TV hanging in the corner. The bar was pretty dark, like most bars I suppose. We had our dinner and enjoyed the ambiance, especially the bar maid with the scarf around her neck.
Eventually we realized how tired we all were. We tripped out of the place and dragged our weary souls back to our hotel.
