Friday - slept in quite late, cleaned the house, and then settled down to watch an episode of “Buffy” from Season 3 before hitting the road at 4pm. Three episodes later, it was 4pm and I hadn’t even packed. I tore myself away from the DVD player and was on the road by 5pm, amazingly enough. I hit the gas station where I ran into this sorta-cute-in-a-jerk-way contractor that I work with occasionally. My St Christoper medal really worked because I made it to the airport with over an hour to spare, which was plenty of time to check in, go thru security, and grab a pastry. A billboard there roughly translated to “While you wait for your RyanAir flight, you burn 27 calories - yet another service from us!” Hehehe.
I landed in Forli and it was only a few minutes before Mr. Wednesday showed up in a borrowed car. Turns out I had flown into an airport that was 3 hours from Pordenone according to mapquest but more like 5-6 hours of Italian driving. Oops. He didn’t mind though and was really nice about it. We could not find a single gas station that was open or had operable self-service until the tank was literally below empty. We finally found one and put in 20 Euros of fuel, which didn’t get us as far as we had hoped. It was about 2:30am and we were lost and almost out of fuel again (to be a trend for the entire weekend), but he called his friend, who though extremely intoxicated was able to give us directions to the base. Hallelujah.
Saturday - woke up really really hungry since I hadn’t eaten for roughly 20 hours (and I get really ancy when I have low blood sugar). With all of the fine Italian food around us, we went to…..the chow hall. Yeah, but it was cheap, close, and good, plus I got to gaze longingly at the beautiful Italian young men who were enjoying midafternoon snacks of Frosted Flakes in the chow hall. How endearing. We left for Aquileia, a town of Roman ruins that either is or isn’t the birthplace of Julius Caesar (depends on which internet site you use). Again running on empty, we made it to the town’s museum, which was good enough but you can’t take photos. We had great philosophical conversations just sitting on some stone benches and staring up at the trees. After the museum, we found a gelato place and mosied around the rest of the town. There are ruins you can actually walk around in and touch and take all the photos you want. Or maybe not; neither of us could read the Italian warning signs. People were nice and friendly and extremely good looking. They are also really into PDA.
Since it was freaking hot, we headed back to the base for cold showers before dinner. We ate dinner at a local restaurant. Honestly, the food wasn’t very impressive but the ambiance was so nice that it made up for it. I had a pleasant conversation with the cashier about sport bikes as well.
Sunday - slept in again and met up with Mr. Wednesday’s very entertaining friend (I don’t have a moniker for him so I’ll call him Friend #1). Friend #1 drove us up the village’s mountain and the view was stunning since it was a clear day. We stopped for some photos at a lodge and enjoyed watching wild deer drinking from pooled water. We proceeded up the mountain and suddenly saw two parasailors plummeting to the ground - they were entangled with each other. It was really freaky and horrible but we couldn’t see them after they left our view, so we kept driving until we could see them again. It looked like they were going to land in a field devoid of trees and rocks, whew. We finally got to a place were Friend #1 could pull over and by then, some viewers had already called for help. I sure hope those people are okay. (Oddly enough, I read a news article today from the states about 2 parasailors who crashed and died, but since this was Italy it was not the same people).
Anyway, we ate at a restaurant on top of the mountain. Or rather, I did. The guys were staring at the lovely waitress’s barely buttoned shirt. Though nearly out of gas again, we coasted down the hill to a grotto where in World War II, villagers tossed all of their holy statues and icons into the mountain stream to keep Nazis from destroying them. The water is very clear but right at the grotto it turns a stunning shade of blue. Cool stuff.
We headed on to the train station and found yet another gelato place while we waited. The train ride into Venice was interesting. Mr. Wednesday was taking a nap but Friend #1 made nice with a choir group (that was rehearsing on the train and quite good) and got a cup of champagne for his efforts. This was my first trip to Venice since I was 9. I remember the dirty canals, which looked much cleaner now and the city has really made quite a facelift from my last memory of it. It’s a delightful place. I bargained with a street vendor for a purse accented with butterfly embellishments from 65 Euros to 15. He looked mad but I figure I learned good bargaining skills after China. We then stopped in a bar and it turns out the 2 guys next to us were from San Francisco and studying art in Florence for the summer. Wouldn’t you know it, we’re in Venice at a bar decorated with lingerie (really) and instead of Italians, we hang with two hippies. Cool. Well, I don’t think they were hippies but they definitely had that artsy, anti-establishment thing going for them, though they were extremely nice even after they found out we were all in the military.
We fed pigeons in the square but I was having so much fun feeding them that I forgot the name of the square. If you’ve ever been there, it’s the big one with all the pigeons. Yeah, I know, not very helpful. The pigeons are so tame that they will climb onto your hand and sit on your shoulder if you want them to. It was getting last so we took a look at the rather sad Bridge of Sighs and hopped the water taxi back to the train station. The train ride home was air conditioned and far better than the WWII esque monstrosity we rode into the city.
We then met up with some of Mr. Wednesday’s friends, Friend #2 and Friend #3, for dinner. I spent at least 10 minutes scrubbing my hands after the realization hit me that I’d been playing with pigeons (basically rats with wings) all afternoon, animal lover that I am. I ate the best pizza I’ve ever had and finally had a good Italian meal. After dinner, we headed back, where we sang karaoke until 3am. I left at 3am but the rest of them were still going strong. In another example of the “it’s a small world after all” syndrome, another friend of his, Friend #4, apparently recognized me from my time in Colorado. I chatted with him in the lobby for a while and he eventually joined us for karaoke.
Monday - tired, tired, tired. The manager was nice enough to call at 10:15am to remind me that checkout was at 11am. I got ready and hung out in Mr. Wednesday’s room to watch “The Vikings” while he did laundry. That is one of my all-time favorite movies, so if you need a good classic, I highly recommend it. We then ate lunch at the Mensa, which is the Italian Air Force’s chow hall as opposed to an ultra-snobby club for geeks. Excellent food and pretty reasonably priced too. More beautiful men to daydream about too. Afterwards, we had to head to the airport. The trip was hot in the non-AC car but still fun and we had good tunes to listen to as well. Got to Forli with enough time for dinner and one last scoop of gelato before boarding my plane. The plane was late landing and it was after 2am before I got home. I was so tired that I kept trying to us my ID instead of my credit card and fell down some stairs, but I didn’t even get lost (that means a lot in Europe, the land of crazy roads and no road signs). All further proof that yes, St Christopher’s work!
All in all, it was a wonderful July 4th even though I didn’t see any fireworks. I hope to get back for another visit with Mr. Wednesday and his friends before he returns to Hawaii.