I’ve been thinking lately that it’s finally time for me to take myself a European vacation, something I’ve always wanted to do, although for some reason it has never seemed to get beyond the planning stages. I have talked to lots of people who have already been there, and they all seem to think that Paris should be my first destination. I’m afraid all I really know about the “City of Light” is that Napoleon Bonaparte once called it home and that Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman fell in love there before they ended up in Casablanca. I’ve also been told that I will love England and all its historical sites, although London is apparently very expensive if you stay more than a few days. Scandinavia is also supposed to be a gorgeous part of Europe, and since I’ve read so many books on the history of the two World Wars that were fought in the past century, I also want to spend some time in Germany. Spain has always interested me, too, but most of all, I want to see Italy.
The art buff in me wants to see some of the major works of Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael, and Italy is where you can find them. And like most everyone else, I’ve always wanted to see the Colosseum in Rome and stroll through that city’s many piazzas and museums. Then off I would go to Venice to take a gondola ride down the Grand Canal to St. Mark’s Square. Next would be Florence, the birthplace of the Renaissance, with all its gorgeous architecture and fabulous works of art by all the great Masters. I would even throw in scenic Tuscany and the beautiful Lake Country if I could find the time.
So, having decided that it was finally time to leave West Sacramento in the dust and get on one of those many roads that lead to Rome, I thought it might be a good idea to first pick the brain of someone who has actually lived in Italy. I will call her Dotty and she was actually born in England. She married an Italian, however, and was soon on her way to the biggest adventure of her life.
“Well,” said Dotty when I eagerly asked her to tell me everything she possibly could about Italy, “the first thing you want to do is avoid being there from May through September, when it is ridiculously hot and humid and there are millions of tourists everywhere you look. Secondly, be prepared for more graffiti than you’ve ever seen in your entire life, especially in the big cities, where it’s everywhere. Next, just accept the fact that if you speak English or even speak fluent Italian with any kind of foreign accent, the taxicab drivers and shop owners are going to charge you at least twice what they do the natives. Oh, and don’t ever count on a bus or any other form of public transportation being on time. Time as you and I understand it simply does not exist in Italy. But at least you are a man, and that should help.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked with interest.
“Well,” explained Dotty, “you have to understand that Italy is a man’s country. Women are supposed to get married, stay at home with the children, shop daily for fresh food and then cook wonderful meals with it, and most important of all, cause their men no trouble or grief. You have to understand, most Italian men live at home forever and are very attached to their mother, so when they finally do get married, they expect their wife to treat them the same way their mother always has. Plus, women are also not supposed to be out in the work force taking jobs away from the men, most of whom get their jobs through nepotism by the way.”
“Nepotism?”
“Oh yes, the whole country is based on nepotism, and even then, most of the jobs aren’t real jobs.”
“How so?”
“Well, in Italy, especially in any kind of government work, 50 relatives will be hired to do the work of 20 men. Plus, the lunch hour goes on forever and offices close early, so if you are used to efficiency and good service, Italy will be a real shock to you.”
Suddenly sensing that her less than glowing critique of Italy was starting to put a damper on my European vacation plans, Dotty added, “Don’t get me wrong, Daryl. Italy has many good points, including the marvelous architecture, all that wonderful history, and some of the best food and wine in all of Europe. All I’m saying is that if you stay longer than a short vacation, I’m afraid Italy is a country that can disappoint you in many ways. It certainly disappointed me.”
“Well,” I said, trying to be cute, “at least you married yourself one of those great Italian lovers.”
“Please, Daryl, let’s not talk about my biggest disappointment of all!”