Pickpockets & other Roman classics

Antipasto is how it begins…

My wonderful wife anticipating the quintessential Roman dish, cacio e pepe.

What do you get with a lot of disoriented, distracted tourists in crowded locations? Pickpockets, scam artists, trinket peddlers. The latter 2 are a mild nuisance. The first?

If you think about the sociological implications of a traditionally marginalized ethnic group, you might have sympathy.

If you consider the structural economic challenges, you might be able to weigh in on an academic discussion.

Intellectual sparring in the university faculty halls have covered those topics, I’m sure.

Just think of the vicious jousting here is savage as any gladiatorial combat.

Now, if that actually happens to you…you’ll want to impose ancient Roman justice. I don’t know too many folks that can enjoy their holiday abroad when their wallet or handbag is taken.

Since the light-fingered larceny may not just be the loss of your cash, but credit cards, identification, passport, mobile phone, and medication, you may not be impartial. 

That is why these intrepid travelers use chest bags (I did tighten Sandra’s, Andrea’s mom, bag eventually).

Now with that public service announcement behind us, I can balance it with the better side of the locals.

For example, the patient hydraulic engineer (grey pants) and caribiniere (dark uniform with red stripe) I met in the laundromat were more than courteous with my clueless self. They showed me that the soap is added automatically. Plus, they showed me how to enter the machine number in the central payment panel because there is no vending per machine.

As I told Andrea’s sisters, laundromats exist all over European cities—even in the family friendly districts. (In the US suburbs, we just see a lot of them by ethnic grocery stores and payday lenders.) Most folks have washing machines in their apartments. Dryers are not as common. In either case, what is at home is typically not large enough for bulky items.

All that is to say there will be an interesting mix of folks at the laundromat. I was the only tourist during the hour I was there. (Yes, I asked.) So don’t overpack by bringing unique clothes for every day. Who knows who you’ll meet on laundry day?

Speaking of cultural intersection, ever been to “typical American” cuisine joints in another country?

Do you know what is not classical Italian cuisine? Spaghetti and meatballs. Yes, Italians eat spaghetti. Yes, they also eat meatballs. But a single dish that combines both? Fuggadaboutit.

Remember, also, Italian cuisine goes way beyond the sacrilegious Chef Boyardee and frozen white cardboard discs sprayed with ketchup and cheese-like flakes. 

The following are authentic dishes. (Note: regional Italian tastes vary widely and can be exotic. Not kidding; click the “exotic” link and see the first. I know what most folks can handle.) Click the names to learn about them.

Arancini, suppli

Cacio e pepe

Bisteca fiorentina

Ragù alla bolognese

Panini

Osso buco

Brodetto

Coda alla vaccinara

Pizza Napoletana

Spaghetti carbonara

Risotto

Carciofo alla giudia

L’amatriciana

Gelato

One volcanic eruption can ruin your day

Pompeii. One word is all you need to say and everyone knows what you are talking about. 

(But there is another town not as well known. That village was Herculaneum. It, too, was buried under volcanic ash and pumice in the Eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. However, it’s kind of a mouthful to say.)

But we’ll get to that when we get there. And getting there was kind of interesting. I didn’t realize Pompeii was a 3 h drive south of Rome, not far from Naples. Like all road trips, you have to stop.

If it was up to me, all road side gas stations will have gourmet panini.

And provide a comfortable cafe sans a tacky fast food environment.

Yet, you can still buy limoncello in an Italy-shaped bottle stylized in stiletto boot.

Limoncello. A postmeal lemon-based liqueur. Right before going to the ruins of Pompeii, we had lunch. Our meal included a complimentary soda, beer, or wine. I decided to pay extra to add the limoncello. You know, when in Rome—or ~150 mi/240 km near it—do as they do.

My initial first impression was liquid summer. After all, the color matches the glorious sun over the Bay of Naples. Next, an aroma of freshly peeled zest, followed by the perfect lemon drop hard candy sensation…

…UNTIL the unholy extra strength FLOOR CLEANER flavor overcomes the delightful citrus taste you just had! Who in God’s Creation thinks Lysol is fit for human consumption???!!!

I don’t know. Maybe it’s an acquired taste? It turned OK once I cut it with orange Fanta.

One more stop. This time to a cameo shop and art gallery. Sure. I guess there’s a kickback deal worked out with the tour company to bring their guests to the very fine purveyor of handcrafted jewelry, Cellini Gallery Cameos & Corals Their work is done by hand from a conch shell using only the finest, most painstaking techniques. (No, I’m getting nothing from that plug 😜).

What was interesting was browsing their gallery. Some really unusual pieces from the empire. 

Here are examples of the Roman steampunk period.

And then this painting. There must be a story. Insert your own joke. (No credit if it begins with, “Is that a sword or are you…”)

Finally, we get to Pompeii. 

One thing that is surprising is that it is elevated from the surrounding land since most of it occupies a plateau.

Next, it is bigger than I expected. Its highest population was estimated to be about 11,500 residents based on housing units. 

There was a sporting arena and an amphitheater*. Definitely not a podunk town. 

*Confession: I didn’t realize it had both, so when I saw graduated seating rows, I thought  I was near the amphitheater, but I was on the other end of town, where the arena was. Kind of disorienting.

Can you blame me? Once you’ve seen one street in Pompeii, you’ve pretty much seen them all.

Mabel’s photo was taken at several different points. Worst directions to give in Pompeii? “It’s at the corner with the grey stone road and the brick walls with no roof.”

Let’s get back to how big it is. It is about 3.5 NYC Central Parks. If one attempted to walk every street…they must really be bored. Really? 5, 6, 8 h on these streets and you’re asking for a twisted ankle.

You know what else is like NYC? The unearthed pizzeria in the middle of town. Seriously. No, it wasn’t really unearthed, but pizza snobs would like to bury it.

Ancient punishment for ordering pineapple on a pizza?

And woe to those asking for ranch dressing. 

The Colosseum…it’s FANtastic!

Anyone remember the National Basketball Association commercials promoting itself? The catchphrase was “NBA, it’s FANtastic!”.

Showed clips of the all-time greats like Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson and so on, doing what they do: shooting, dunking, passing, and dribbling with their legendary skills. Lots of celebrities and fans enjoying themselves.

Live spectator sports have an electric, communal energy.

If we go back about 1943 years, the Colosseum was the equivalent of the NBA, NFL, MLB, EPL—the best basketball, American football, baseball, and soccer leagues, respectively—combined.

Except for a bit more blood.

Guts.

Limbs.

And heads. And that was just the humans.

Ever watch “Gladiator” with Russell Crowe? Kind of provides an idea of the life of a rock star athlete. An athlete that wasn’t free and could be killed during afternoon entertainment—but they did have cheering crowds and groupies.

Yeah, groupies. Our Colosseum tour guide, Sandra, really expanded on the belief that women had that gladiator “juice” had special ability to pass on their strength.

So, the energy drink, supplement, prenatal vitamins, and sperm bank biz goes way back. Who knew?

Shocks and surprises

We all have a sense of reality that puts ourselves as the main character of the story of our life. I know I do. In the narrative of my life, I’m not a genius, but I’m generally competent and can navigate the world most of the time in the direction I want.

And y’all probably feel that way, too.

Poor souls, you’re just one degree from losing all dignity. It’s not a bad thing. It will keep you humble.

How? Go to a place where you are nowhere near proficient with the language. At least two things will happen:

1) You’ll be entertainment for the locals.

2) You’ll feel a mountain of triumph accomplishing the most basic tasks an average 10 year old can do.

Oh, I should add you’ll improve your charade gesturing and sound effect skills. Here’s a representation. Text in [] convey thought and action.

“Good morning, ma’am. Does you [who I address in formal and unfamiliar manner] help my need…

a plastic…bag…

[um, uh]…

[pinch thumb and index finger together of one hand, touch webbing between thumb and index finger of opposite hand]…

ZEEEEEP! [with simultaneous quick gliding of pinched fingers along length of index finger]”

When the store employee gives the face of recognition while saying, “Ah. Si”, you get the sensation that is as rewarding as catching a slippery bar of soap in the shower. (You know what I’m talking about. It is that micro-dose of executed athleticism that doesn’t need spectators.)

Speaking of soap…

Our hotel has no supply of bar soap at the moment. Sure, they have condiment size liquid gel packs. I mean, yeah, it’ll make suds. Still, not enough for those of us that actually Rinse and Repeat.

Challenge accepted. Got a whole list of stuff to get from the “supermercato” already. (Disclaimer: when you’re in the center of a European city, put the notion of a supermarket as an emporium of all manner of consumables in a building footprint big enough for raising horses out of your mind. Think about the size of a gas station convenience store.)

Well, as I was getting ready, the hotel staff informed me their logo’ed cracker-size bars of soap were delivered this morning. Though I was ready to present them with visual accents as I ask, “Where is the hard soap on people to clean bodies?”, my wife’s needs still required shopping.

Not successful. Apparently, after-shower, spray-on, leave-in hair conditioner is not a thing in Euroland. A constant stare of astonishment by the locals persisted as I strung together “hair”, “smooth”, “soft”, “shower”, “wet”—plus my spray motion and hissing sound effects. I might as well have tried to explain the Electoral College, since each employee I engaged told me, “no, sir, we do not have” in the way a psychiatric technician humors a residential patient.

Anyway, let me close by telling you something shocking. Some places look bigger on tv than in real life, like the “Tonight Show” studio. (Yes, I camped out years ago at the Burbank studio when Jay Leno had the job.)

St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City? Uh, no. It’s the complete opposite. Some who read this are Roman Catholic. Others are various Protestant denominations. Atheists and agnostics are also represented.

No matter your voodoo, you must experience this. Even those who hate the papacy so much they would cheer for Satanic Ouija University and their mascots, the Fighting Incubi, over Notre Dame should see what a few gold pieces and architectural virtuosos could do.

Anticipation & commencement

When does a long planned vacation feel real? To me, it is when we pass through large art installations at the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport. 

See, planning, learning, preparing, booking are all very much real events. Even immersing yourself in foreign language tutorial apps and YouTube videos is not enough to feel imminent. Why?

Because that all happens in one’s routine surroundings.

However, it is not everyday a person passes under a 30 ft bronze wishbone on the way to TSA security lines.

Doesn’t everyone start imagining how big the fowl that would belong to? (I wish my nieces were still little. I’d be the uncle who tells them, “…before airplanes, people would ride giant birds.”)

Then, once shoes are back on and belongings reassembled on the other side of the security, it is on to the gates. Suddenly, past the airport-as-shopping-mall establishments, this appears:

Like being transported to a magical land or a Dr. Seuss universe, right? It is called “Crystal Mountain”.

Well, Theodor Geisel wasn’t Italian, but that doesn’t make Italy any less remarkable.

For example, why don’t we do this in our restrooms? 

Everything is there without taking a step. 

Sometimes, the actual travel part of “travel” is to be endured. Ten hours spent seated with only rumors of legroom, obnoxious co-passengers, and horrific airplane bathroom experiences*, are a test. A challenge. A barrier…to separate those who must discover the land where Vespas outnumber SUVs and…

whisk down boulevards like this:

*You’ll have to ask Andrea yourself; a gentleman never smells and tells.