Glorious Italy: Adventures andT Misadventures

I just got back from a wonderful trip to Italy. I could write about the beauty of Tuscany’s rolling hills, soldier-straight cypresses, and misty mornings. I could write about Italy’s fabulous food – the tang of real parmesan cheese, the perfect bite of pasta, and the joy of a country that serves Nutella-slathered pastries for breakfast. I could even venture into the literary territory of trying to describe the spectacular mosaics of San Marco in Venice, the exquisite frescoes of Giotto in the Scrovegni Chapel, or the architecture of jaw-dropping cathedrals.

Beautiful, rain-soaked San Marco Basilica, Venice

But I’m not going to write about any of those things. I want to write about the ugly side of travel. The mishaps and misadventures, the fatigue at the end of a day spent on one’s feet, the scary feeling of unfamiliarity. Travel is all about beauty and experiencing something new and seeing the world. But it’s also about feeling vulnerable and out of control. It’s about missing trains and being frustrated at not being able to express ourselves. It’s about making dumb mistakes . . . and paying for them.

You would think these misadventures would be enough to kill the travel bug. But that’s not the case. In fact, these experiences might feed it.

We had a lot of mishaps on this trip, perhaps more than usual. I don’t know why. I went on this trip with seasoned traveler friends, Richard and Melody Manwaring, and my two sisters, who have also donned their travel shoes quite a few times. You’d think we would know that you have to scoot down to get off the train when they call the stop so we wouldn’t end up in a tiny town that a tourist has never seen. You’d think we’d remember to validate train tickets, so we wouldn’t be fined. You’d think we wouldn’t get lost or forget to pay a hotel bill or lose sight of fellow travelers or end up paying more for something than we’d planned.

But all of those things happened. I asked myself, are we too old to travel? Have we lost the touch? Was our group too unwieldy?

Nope. None of those things. We were traveling.  Stuff happens when you travel. Period.

The ironic thing is that travel mishaps often end up being the best memories of the trip. For example, when we missed our train stop and ended up in the tiny, dark town? We discovered a restaurant that apparently was the hot spot for the entire community. We ate calzones as big as our heads, while we observed enormous tables of men gesturing wildly, talking animatedly, laughing and clearly enjoying each other’s company. It seemed a familiar ritual. We watched them as we tried bruschetta twelve ways – not only the traditional tomatoes and olive oil, but also topped with salt cod, offal, sugar-coated pancetta, briny olives, and other unidentifiable pastes and pates. We agreed this was the best food we’d eaten during the entire trip, and the people welcomed us, like we were one of the party.

Of course, not every travel adventure has a happy ending. The last time I went to Italy, I went home with a broken arm. That wasn’t fun. But it’s all part of the journey . . . and it makes a good story.

If I wanted to avoid risk, I’d stay home and never leave my house . . . and never see the world.

Nah, I don’t think so. I’ll take my chances.  

The Ponte Vecchio in Florence - No mishaps here, just the best gelato we had in Italy      

Melody Manwaring, Bonnie Kennan, Leanna Crockett, Lisa Turner

Singing Puccini arias outside the Puccini museum in Lucca. The head of the Puccini Foundation heard us singing and came out and told us all about Puccini and his importance to Italians. A bit of travel serendipity!