Trying to leave Italy

Tuscany in the rain

A harder job than I expected, but not for any of the reasons that I expected. Of course it would have been great to stay longer but more importantly, Italy didn’t want me to go. Or so it seemed.

It started in the morning with our short drive back to Florence from Greve in Chianti where we’d stayed our last night. The drive was fine and not that long, 30km, so we started out at 930 leaving us loads of time to get to the airport in time for my 1250 flight.

Florence graffitti

Everything went well until we got to Florence and tried to find the airport and the rental car return and again ran into our italian trifecta of road problems: bad maps, no signs and general confusion. Italians have curious ideas about signage. They like to put all the cities in every direction on the same sign with one arrow. Do you need to go to Florence, Rome or Bologna? Head this way. Well, that’s three cardinal directions and we only need one but ok… this way it is.

In the same (annoying) way, they think “well marked” roads consist of two signs. One sign 50 meters before you turn off, one sign at the turn off. Come on! That’s two signs! What more do you want? Time to prepare? Time to assess? Time to adjust your reflexes? Sorry. That’s not the Italia way. Here we fly by the seat of our pants. Always prepared: that’s the Italian motorist motto.

After two days in Tuscany we’d become experts at catching small hidden signs at the crooks of turn offs and getting lost less and figuring our way around. But once we got into the city of Florence, we could find signs directing us to the airport but not a single sign for the rental car return, which was in a completely different location. We did a couple rounds of trying this road and that one, taking roundabouts, going different directions looking for some indication of something and then we gave up and stopped at a gas station for help.

The woman at the desk stopped us at “car rental” and ran past us out of the store shouting someone’s name. A guy on a bike turned around, she pointed to us and and then motioned to us through the door to follow her. We went to talk to the guy on the bike thinking maybe he spoke better English or…??? And he said “rental car?” we said yes and he said “5 euro. You follow me. I take you there.”

5 euros!! Highway robbery!

I had flashbacks to all the little hustlers I’ve met in multiple countries who find a crack in the system and widen it enough to let the cash fall in and I didn’t want to pay him, just on principle. Plus this guy was also leading another American in a rental car who was also paying him 5 euro so that’s 10 euros for directions. But Sarah said we should pay him because what else are we going to do? We clearly didn’t know where we were going.

I reluctantly agreed and the guy on the bike took off into traffic leading his little convoy of lost Americans. He zipped and weaved through the cars, waving behind him if we needed to change lanes, pointing over his shoulders if we were turning and taking us through the most complicated zigzag path through downtown Florence.

10 minutes later we saw a tiny sign that said “car rental” with an arrow and 25 meters later we saw this sign

Rental car return Florence

The bike guy took a sharp turn under the underpass and there we were, at the rental car return. If I had to recreate that journey on pain of death they’d have to just kill me because I could never get back there. We paid the guy his 5E and exclaimed over how complicated the route was as he nodded “yes, confusing. Not many signs.” He knows. He’s aware. He’s probably paid for a house this year by leading tourists back and forth to the rental car return. And you know what? Good for him. We needed to get there and ultimately it was worth the 5E because we’d never have made it without him.

So, Sarah and I said goodbye at the airport “so great! Let’s do it again!” and I checked in at the counter for my flight to Vienna with a connection to Berlin and ordered (I thought…) my last glass of wine in Italy

italian wine Firenze

We boarded the plane and then all hell broke loose. I’ll consolidate for time: the plane computer went down, they tried to reset it, they couldn’t, we deplaned while they ordered a computer battery from somewhere to try to get delivered to Florence. Then the sweet multilingual airline lass had to field a multitude of questions: No, they had no idea how long it would take. Yes they were relatively sure that would fix the problem. No, they couldn’t say if the flight would get canceled. No, we cannot take your number and text you with information while you are out smoking (!). Yes, just wait. That’s all we can do. Sorry so sorry.

So I ordered lunch and another glass of wine, figured I’d miss my connection to Berlin no matter what, considered the prospect of staying another night in Florence or perhaps in Austria… etc.

Finally the battery arrived, we got back on the plane a couple hours later and took off for Vienna. When we landed they called my name, got me and 5 others off the plane first and handed us new boarding passes booking us through Frankfurt and got us to our new gate. One of my fellow detainees sniffed and said “an extra flight? I’m not impressed AirBerlin…” and I thought “wow, I am.” In America they’d have let me suffer on the plane and in the terminal until I fought my way to an overcrowded help desk where a harassed agent would do their best to rebook me but I’d miss this connecting flight because all of that would take too long. AirBerlin rebooked me while I was still in the air!

I got to Frankfurt and then to Berlin at 1030pm, approximately 7 hours after my expected arrival, waited through the longest most drawn out baggage claim cycle known to man and… no suitcase.

The next hour consisted of finding a baggage claim desk 3 terminals away and standing in line for another 20 minutes only to find that it was the wrong baggage claim desk. Only barely containing my irritation and exhaustion at this point, I trekked back to my original terminal where a young girl with big wide eyes took down all my luggage information, was horrified when I didn’t have a German phone number (my German phone has stopped working for some reason), sounded skeptical when I asked her to email me with information instead of calling me and then gave me a PO Box in Germany where I could mail receipts if I had to “buy cosmetics.” I got a taxi and was home around 1230.


Yesterday was a very anxiety ridden day waiting to hear back from the airline. Most of the stuff I use every day is in that suitcase and I’m only here another week so the idea of trying to replace all/most of it is so tiring. Not much of it is really valuable but it’s most of my clothes and all my toiletries. I spent all day living with the mantra “it’s just stuff” and reminding myself that even though it’s tremendously inconvenient and expensive to replace it, it’s not the end of the world. At least I have other things and money. Be grateful. sigh. sigh sigh.

Normally I can rally with this kind of thing because I travel all the time and my suitcase always arrives. I think it’s gone missing maybe one other time in 10 years so I’m beating the law of averages by a mile. But I don’t have a phone number here, I have another week, I can’t replace most of that stuff because it’s American made etc. etc. But again, it’s just stuff.

Fortunately, today I woke up to a message that they have my suitcase and will deliver it at a time and date of my choosing. I responded basically “now please” and they wrote back “IHR GEPÄCK WIRD SOMIT HEUTE ZWISCHEN 12-15 UHR ZUGESTELLT” which Google translates as

Your luggage is thus TODAY BETWEEN 12-15 CLOCK SERVED

And now I wait to be served.

And that was the ignominious end to my Italian mini break! Fortunately the trip was better than the conclusion. And I do hope to get back to Italy, perhaps as soon as next year. But only if they promise me some sun…


Driving, Pisa and the Med

Breakfast Florence

Today’s synopsis is brought to you by Sarah who, in a moment of extreme frustration today said “Some days you make all the right decisions and everything is good and you have a great day, and then there are those other days…”

Today started as one of the other days when our apartment internet connection was painfully molasses-y while I was trying to upload 1000 pictures to finish the post from yesterday. It took forever this morning. I can’t even talk about it. It didn’t put us behind but spending a couple hours glaring at my computer with gritted teeth and saying “U P L O A D!” wasn’t the best start to the morning.

I have to give props to Sarah and all my friends and family who travel with me and have the utmost patience to sit with their hands in their laps while I photograph all their food and wait patiently (and quietly) while I blog and write every day. You’re the best and I love you all.

I finally finished and we packed, left the house, had the breakfast above, which was great and also had a view of the Arno river, and then the sun came out! And so did all the tourists!

Florence from the ponte vecchio

We walked over the Ponte Vecchio for the last time (lovely), tried to take a picture with no people in it (unlovely)  and then tried to find a taxi to take us to the airport to get our rental car.

Things we didn’t know: you can’t hail cabs in Florence like you can everywhere else in the world. Instead you need to go to a taxi stand and act like you don’t care and you don’t need a taxi and then one shows up. Indifference, apathy and the correct location are the only things that get you cabs in Florence. We didn’t have any of those things because it took us a long time to figure that out, multiple cabs passed us by and we really really wanted to get out of Florence.

A couple strangers finally took pity on us and explained the system and we finally got a cab that took us to the airport only to discover that the airport rental cars aren’t at the actual airport, they’re accessible only by shuttle bus. So again with the indifference, apathy and finding the correct location for the rental car shuttle bus. Finally we got our car, finally Sarah figured out the clutch, a rather harrowing business, after which she said “You know what I need now? Chocolate.”

One piece of chocolate later we lurched our way out of the airport parking lot, started out going the correct direction and then it started raining and then we got lost, at which point I remembered a conversation we’d had the night before about whether or not to get a GPS for the car and Sarah said “How much is it? 27 Euros? No! Let’s just get extra glasses of wine instead.”

Perhaps we’d have been less lost if we’d had the glasses of wine before we got in the car. I’m sure we would’ve cared less. As it was, my lap looked like this:

maps of Tuscany

And none of those maps included all the cities we drove through. The next two hours of our lives were small skinny two way highways

Driving through Italy

Leading into one roundabout after another with multiple signs listing cities I’d frantically try to find on the map while Sarah circled the roundabout, I’d find none, we’d make a guess as to our exit, repeat repeat repeat.

We finally gave up on the scenic route and took the “expressway,” a slightly less skinny highway system and then also stopped for lunch when we realized that low blood sugar wasn’t helping.

So, this pizza from a road side stand called al Molinacci in Uzzano was awesome.

Sarah pizza

Can we talk about that wood fired  crust?

Al Molinaccio pizza

We certainly can. And it cost 1 euro! Our whole lunch including beer and a package of nutella cookies (we needed them) cost us 7 euros. And then the tide changed.

The sun came out, Cyndi Lauper came on our radio singing “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” and we got to Pisa in record time with blue skies and good parking.

How precious is this little wedding cake of a complex?

pisa italy

You can just see the famous tower behind it. And speaking of that tower, I’ve never seen so many ridiculous selfies as I saw in Pisa. Here’s a small sampling, Can you see everyone with their hand out?

Leaning tower of pisa

It’s almost impossible not to play along though, especially on a day with such blue skies. So, here’s Sarah

Sarah in Pisa

And me

me in pisa

And us

pisa selfie

And one more just for good measure in case you can’t remember what it looks like.

Leaning tower of pisa

It’s simply so photographable we couldn’t help ourselves. And unlike everything else in Italy, they plunked it in a huge green open field and made it so easy to take pictures! Thanks Pisa! We could have paid 18 euros to climb the tower but we didn’t. We climbed two yesterday. We’re good.

Instead we took a tower break to photograph gelato (carmel) and cafe (macchiatto)

Gelato y cafe

And buy postcards and jewelry and then we got back in our little silver bullet and zoomed our way to the coast. In what seemed like .3 seconds, we were at the sea.

The Med in Italy

So gorgeous, the Mediterranean.

The Med in Italy

We’d decided to spend the night at the shore and head into wine country tomorrow so after climbing up and down that cliff and watching the waves crash for what seemed like hours, we continued driving down the coast looking for hotels. We swung off the road in Castiglioncello at the first hotel we found that overlooked the ocean to ask if they had a room.

They did. Would we like to see it? Yes. She takes us downstairs and turns to the sea side of the hotel, opens the door, says “and there’s a balcony” and then she opens that door to this view.

The Med from our balcony

Are we interested in the room?  ARE WE INTERESTED IN THE ROOM? Can I live here? Perhaps forever? Just for tonight? Ok, yes. We’ll take the room.

We moved in and stood on the balcony to take in the view and then only ripped ourselves away because we were starving and it was getting late. And then we tried to find an open restaurant in a small seaside town during off season… not easy. Sarah finally accosted a little old guy on the street to ask him about anything open and he said “Sto pensando… pensando…” and then gave us directions up the street to a place he was sure was open and promised we would eat very well. He actually kissed his fingers, God bless him.

The place he recommended was Scolapasta, a white table cloth place that looked very shi shi but starving beggars can’t be choosers so we went in and sat down… and then proceeded to have the best meal I’ve had since I got to Europe, perhaps one of my best all year.

Bread and wine

Ristorante Scolapasta Italy

Fresh handmade pasta so thin I could see through it

Ristorante Scolapasta Italy

Fresh grilled seafood

Ristorante Scolapasta Italy

And a yogurt mousse dessert so light it was the texture of whipped cream.

Ristorante Scolapasta

Sarah and I couldn’t get over ourselves or this food. I’ve never had Italian pasta that good ever. Not once. And if I’d left Italy and not eaten food like this, I’d have been so sad. I’m also so glad it was by the sea because the seafood was so fresh. Outstanding. All around.

Ristorante Scolapasta Italy

Cheers Scolapasta. You’re magnificent.

And then we bought a bottle of wine and went back to our balcony because.. views.

Sarah and the Med

And that’s how a day turns around. Thank God.

Tomorrow: wine country.