Summer in Italy I
The weather was remarkably mild for this time of year, late June, a good omen for our summer vacation in Italy this year. We planned this sorely needed time off for months and I could not believe I was back in my old country all of a sudden.
The first place we visited was Mirano, a small town only twenty minutes away from Venice. There is a delightful small hotel there, The Leon D'Oro, sheltered from the highway traffic in the middle of the country, tall stalks of corn all around.
A dear friend lives in Mirano and he was great at buffering the change of pace from the States. He picked us up at the airport and helped us move around town for a couple of days, until the Italian atmosphere entered thoroughly in our systems. We took the train into Venice and visited friends and family.
Strange, I thought, I was always convinced Venice never changes really but this time I was perceiving subtle and not so subtle mutations in this magic city. For one thing it seemed that they have shoved restaurants, bars and trattorias in the most remote and out of the way places. Are the tourists, usually crowding only the center, Piazza San Marco to Rialto Bridge, intruding more into the unknown quarters of the city? Or is the higher standard of living luring locals out to eat more?
Also the streets seemed more cluttered, with all these stands selling T-shirts and junky souvenirs cropping up everywhere, you can hardly walk through some areas like Strada Nova, the long artery that links the center with the railroad.
Other changes: the fares for the vaporettos or public transportation boats that once were the cheap way to get around are now exorbitant.Why, I remember when the ticket from Venice to Lido, a twenty minute trip was 1,000 lira, or 50 American cents. Now a whopping $8 per person. One good thing: the bathrooms in public places like bar and restaurants, clean and tiled all around, with working toilets, paper and soap.
No more, at least I did not see any, Turkish toilets, you know the hole on the ground with grooved feet stands at the side, requiring you to squat? Thank God we have westernized!!! At the Lido I borrowed a bicycle and rode to all the places of my childhood. Via Chio, a small street where we hung around and played as seven to ten years olds, the houses where I lived as a teenager.
I saw the terrace from the street, the small columns still dirt grey, the garden below us with the same old statue of two dogs, life size, huddled together and the stone bench with arched backing. I stood there for a few minutes, a Cinema Paradiso scene, but the tremendous emotion I expected was disappointing.
Just an old place where new people live, so what? So much for romantic thunderbolts!
I enjoyed the pizza at my brother Tony's pizzeria, boy is he making a killing!!
Always full from 11:00 a.m. to midnight. But he complains, too many rude people, they ask stupid questions like “What is this charge? “Coperto signore, the basic charge for sitting down.” “These damn Indians, they argue over a penny!”I got a lot more to share with you but I've got no more space. Catch you next time!
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