My Italian Vacation: a user’s guide

1. My Instant localization kit:
1. Hip sunglasses – 4 Euros (negotiated price from South Asian street vendor)
2. Hip scarf            – 3 Euros          “              “                 “         “
3. Hip sneakers (Hogan)  – 325 Euros (no negotiation possible with high-end retailers, my dignity remains intact)
4. Abundant caffeine sources  – 1.2-6 Euros (sold everywhere where society gathers)
5. Active mobility of my hands when emulating locals expressing strong emotion, especially about politics, soccer, and interpersonal relationships. – 0 Euros (some degree of unfettered self-expression required)

• 2. I’ve disregarded Google Italy, or any other navigational guidance  – I tried, but can’t learn to live with vague generalizations and intermittent accuracy on intricate driving directions – apparently they are more committed to the viaggio (journey) than the destination.
• 3. I don’t worry about drinking cappuccino after 1pm or other internet bred travel “must dos” – the Italians know I’m a tourist, so I’ll gain some self-respect and be one.
• 4. I’ve learned enough Italian with Pimsleur tapes to say “grazie” to men, women/young women – in the future I will forget any other crash course in vocabulary; just learn directions to finding bathrooms. I say “molto squisito” only after a really good dish – I don’t overuse. (This exotic expression not covered in Pimsleur, but sounds cool)
• 5. If I dress well (see #1) I am able to walk directly into any café or hotel and use the toilet (see #4). I don’t slow down, I don’t make eye contact. If stopped, I resort to wild hand gestures (see #1e).
• 6. Once again, I am reminded to pack only 10% of what I think I need to take – I still only wear what’s on the top layer of my suitcase anyway. Will I ever learn?
• 7. I may gain weight – so I will stop torturing myself and relax. If I really want to go local – I will start smoking – that will help with the weight and raise the cool factor (see #1). I pledge I will go on a watercress and non-fat yogurt diet when I return home. That should help with the guilt. Walking for six hours a day seems to counterbalance most of intake of pasta, pastries, and gelato.
• 8. I now drive in Italy practicing offensive, not defensive driving –others on the road respect me for it – they seem to express their approval with Neapolitan dialectics and exaggerated hand gestures (1e).
• 9. When I encounter other Americans, I pretend to be Canadian and feel, well… smugly superior.
• 10. I leave BIG tips, I leave small tips – doesn’t seem to matter. Italian wait staffs bring vast enthusiasm to the profession, and seem to regulate the service to how courteous and witty I am (see #4). Guess that’s something ya’ can’t coach in a User Guide🙂

Click on pix!