A few snippets, and I better stop at these as I'm getting carried away...
- On my first visit to Italy, we stayed in Ravello. One afternoon we strolled into the square and saw a limousine pull up. It turned out to be prime minister Andreotti (before he was jailed)
- On a trip to a wonderful winery in Predappio. Emilia-Romagna (Drei Dona), they suggested lunch across the road. Just a basic trattoria they said, but (with a
) "they make their own pasta". On the way into the restaurant, two elderly gentlemen enquired if we were going in to eat, and if so, would we like to join them. We said yes. We sat down, trying to converse as best as I could in Italian, and enjoyed a good meal (the past indeed was excellent). As we're finishing the meal, one chap excuses himself from the table and disappears, presumably going to the toilet, but no, he returns having paid the bill for all of us. As uncomfortable as it felt, it was absolutely right to recognise this as traditional and very genuine Italian hospitality, and to remember forever.
- On a couple of occasions I've been given too much change, spotted it and explained it to them. The transition from thinking "the foreigner is struggling with our currency" to "oh - they're right - how good of them" is utterly priceless.
- In Torino, perhaps our favourite city in the world, we ventured out to the basilica di Superga. To get there, there is a long established 'rack railway' that takes two carriages up a *very* steep incline. About half way up there is a stop. However, rather than carrying on upwards, the carriage starts moving back down the hill, rapidly accelerating, despite there being a driver at the controls. After a few seconds (possibly not as many as it felt), another gentleman strolls calmly to the controls and shows his colleague (who he may have been training) what to do, applying the brake and then getting us going back up the hill. For a brief moment, it was scary.
- In every train station the world over, announcements are unintelligible. However on a few occasions I've noticed that because I'm intensely listening, I'm better able to hear what is said. The pride in being able to inform an Italian of a platform change, or that a train has been cancelled, and we're to catch a different train and change at Cavalmaggiore, is barely containable!
- Going into a stationary shop and asking for packing tape / sticky tape. Describing it in Italian, the lady is initially confused, then
as she says "Ah! Scotch" with more than a hint of bemusement that an English speaking person hasn't come across the term/brand Scotch before. Sneaking a similar one in, my partner took me to Amsterdam for my birthday, but got horribly drunk at a friend's leaving do the night before. Credit to her, she made it to the plane (via a start to the day that mirrored the start to 4 weddings and a funeral), and we landed at 9am. The only problem is, we can't get our room until 2pm. So we stroll around, her looking and clearly feeling awful. Mid morning we decide she should have something to eat. I ordered something normal, and order for her a dry bread roll and some still water. The Dutch girl serving had this look of confusion, that here were two clearly native English speakers, yet what was being asked for made no sense, as if these weird foreigners could speak, but not understand the language, that she (as almost all Dutch people) also spoke fluently.
- Staying in a wonderful apartment, attached to a b&b / boutique hotel in Ferrara, where they served excellent breakfasts, always with a good part of it hand made, always including a new cake. We had such a lovely stay we bought the lady flowers from the market to say thankyou (rather awkwardly, as whilst we were at the stall, she passes by!). When it came to leave, we asked if they'd book us a taxi to go to the train station to catch the sleeper train. They decided that they'd take us instead, and they warm embraces as we left, made it rather emotional. We did return again, on another trip, and perhaps we're due a further trip in the not too distant future. Just lovely people (but Ferrara is also lovely).
- On a later trip to Ravello we go bounding down the steep steps towards Amalfi, rather over-confidently as it turns out, and my partner turns her ankle badly (not side on, but toes curled back under the foot. She's in agony. At that moment a dog starts barking. Clearly not happy she screams "f*ck off" at it, and all we hear is a whimper as it slopes away. As a postscript, we eventually decide we need to get her an x-ray having moved onto Lipari, Sicily. Whilst waiting, the other patients are ever so considerate, despite them having their own woes. What should have been a poor experience, turned into a memorably heart-warming one, as everywhere we went, there was warm compassion. That is the Italy that remains special to us. The people who make it so.