A magical rarity happened on the way from Montreal to Rome: I slept.
As non-fussy of a traveler as I consider myself to be (excuse that fussy sentence construction, I’m still getting used to this European keyboard/time change) I have never had any luck falling asleep in an upright position. I’ve passed out on dirt, concrete, airport floors, back seats and benches — as long as I’m horizontal, I’m good — but the whole overnight flight thing never goes well for me.
However, 20 minutes into my attempt at finally watching Wall Street (Michael Douglas, you KILL me in those suspenders, and also make me kind of want a pair) I conked out for a solid 4 hours. It must be Italy working its charm already.
Right off the plane (my dad and I flew direct to Rome, mom and the bros had a layover in Frankfurt) I had one thing on my brain: pizza. Apparently, its completely acceptable breakfast food here, so Earl — the man whose genes I hold responsible for my often mind-bogglingly large appetite — and I chowed down on two heavenly pieces of sourdough-y margharita. A solid start.
We picked up our car, a clunky Toueran (ah, the minivan of Europe) from an adorable Italian woman at the Avis counter who reminded me of my mom in the 70s (especially with her Farrah Fawcett layers) and camped out at Arrivals to wait for the rest of the clan. I tore through Vogue’s Age issue, which sometimes disappoints me with its overt focus on plastic surgery but was FANTASTIC and chock-full of rip-out-and-save-for-inspiration profiles. A few more naps at the airport cafe and the remaining Ralphs were in Rome.
Fact about my family: we love driving. Like, probably more than is reasonable. Our 2-hour weekend trek to Vermont feels like nothing to any of us, so we tend to be gung-ho about roadtripping. Hence the bright idea to drive through most of Italy, starting with a 3-hour jaunt from Rome to Florence, which I’m sure was scenic, but was also missed by all of us except dad. Yeah, you guessed it — more naps. What I did see of Tuscany made me very excited/nervous for our bike tour there in a few days. Rolling hills are pretty from a car, but I’m sure the dinner I just ate (two kinds of pasta, risotto, stewed beef, grilled pork chops, and oh yeah, fried rabbit and zucchini flowers) are not going to help me climb up those.
Anyways, I’m off for an early bedtime. We’ve got a meeting with the David tomorrow at 9:30, and my dad keeps pretending to be Oprah and telling us that we’re all getting leather jackets (I’ll let you know how that hefty promise pans out). Plus, there’s a heck of a lot of gelato ground to cover.
Buena notte, bellas! More from me if the Hotel Belvedere internet ever speeds up.
