The Illusive Meatball and the Making of Rob Roy

Beall and Bob to the North and South

The illusive meatball - finally

got him

No hands in the Mediterranean

Practicing safe sunning while

enjoying our own boat

Panarea, this view comes with a cost

of 15 dollar Coronas

Just me and Stromboli

Lipari, Isola Eolie

Captain Bob, navigating us

straight to Stromboli

Exploring the nooks and crannies

of Panarea
No cars on Panarea, but have to watch

out for the high speed golf carts

The closest Bob came to Don Corleone

One happy camper - finally got

his carbonara back in Trastevere

Reveling in the splendor of Bellagio,

with the view from our room
And then doing what you do in Bellagio

Rob Roy drinking a Rob Roy, still

not sure exactly what's in this drink

but it's pure magic for Rob

Tricking Bob into a hike to get to these views
And the reward - playing in a castle
Stopping by Richard Branson's for

afternoon snacks
Don't worry we posed like statues
AND reenacted Star Wars at

the villa where it was filmed

Putting the newly minted MBA to

good use taking Rome's vendors by storm

with his unbeatable negotiation skillz

Oh yeah, ol Trevi got him

Grazie mille per una bella vacanza Bob!!!

Just about one year ago, Bob came to visit me in New Zealand where we spent a week chasing waterfalls and Gollum through middle earth. This year Bob decided to come to Italy to chase down meatballs and George Clooney - so obvi we would be heading to Sicily and Lago di Como, basically as far south as you can go in Italy and as far north, all in 8 days. To summarize, Bob came to Italy for 12 days of which I had two long weekends to spend traveling with him. His four days on his own will not be catalogued here (however he did stop by Chaplins to see Maria!!) - what happens when you're not with me in Italy stays in Italy.

Chivalry and damseling - Bob quickly came to realize that chivalry is alive and well in Italy - and highly enforced. Example, purchasing food at a grocery store and I grab the bag, shop clerk takes it out of my hand and puts it into Bob's. Or renting a little boat to take out around the Isola Eolie for the day, boat rental guy knows only I speak Italian, so has a conversation with me in Italian about how to run the boat, but only makes eye contact with Bob because clearly I as a dainty female could not possibly man the boat. For years I talked about needing to work on my damsel skillz so that I could meet someone that would take care of me instead of me taking care of them - well problem solved in Italy, I am forced to be a damsel, and yes it is quite luxurious. Bob asked me what he (and men) get out of all this chivalry in return. To which I explained that men in Italy are allowed to openly stare at women, meaning up and down, and yell whatever they'd like at them at any time even if they're with another guy. Chivalry gets you unlimited ogling. I'd say its a fair trade

Food - As soon as I arrived in Italy Bob gave me an assignment to track down the best carbonara for him. Luckily, carbonara is a Roman specialty so I didn't have to go far and was ready to deliver for Bob's visit. I didn't realize that Bob was also coming with a whole host of other food expectations - for instance being adamant about eating meatballs in Sicily. Since we spent most of our time in Sicily on the Isola Eolie (where they favour seafood) we were on a mad hunt for meatballs and canolis for our one night in Palermo - and still failed. I'm not actually sure that meatballs are a Sicilian thing, but Bob was less than pleased until we got to Rome and he could drown his sorrows in carbonara and tiramisu. In Lago di Como, Bob was still on the look out for meatballs, but settled for the best lasagna he's ever had and unlimited Rob Roys. Finally, for Bob's last meal we happened by a restaurant near the good ol Trevi Fountain where they're apparently hiding all of the meatballs in Italy.

Travel biz - So you know that brilliant idea for a travel biz that I talked about in my last post - SheMoon Adventures? Well, my biz partner might need to be the one in charge of details/logistics and I might need to be the big picture one....Travel mishaps included me booking our flight back from Sicily for the wrong day (the ol European calendar starting the week on a Monday trick got me), and of course all flights for the rest of the day being sold out, resulting in a 12 hour train ride from Palermo to Rome. Let me tell you that while this may not be your first travel choice we certainly got to see A LOT of the Italian countryside, and have the very weird experience of our train being loaded onto a boat. Next travel mishap included getting a rental car for maximum Clooney stalking, only to have it broken into/rear window shattered in the broad daylight in a busy parking lot - oh and NOT having purchased insurance.

If you haven't realized it already from this blog, dealing with any kind of customer service/complaint/problem in Italy in anything but logical or easy. We tried to call the police to only find out that they were "closed" - how comforting. So although I've tried to ameliorate myself to working within the Italian bureaucracy - this instance resulted in what we Americans do best - calling in American reinforcements in the form of my US credit card company.

Negotiating skillz - Part of Bob's reason for coming to Italy was to take one last long (in American terms) trip before getting back to the real world after finishing his MBA. Well instead of going on vacation, Bob put that MBA to work on the real streets of Rome and showed me how to stick it to all the Roman/Bangladeshi tourist vendors of crap. If you're ever in need of a bubble gun, bouncy balls that glow, a glowing spinny in the air thing - well Rome's your market. Bob showed me all he'd learned in B school, getting these savvy vendors of crap down over 50% of their asking price. End result - two bouncy glowy balls for less than the price of one, which I should add are the only two gifts/souvenirs that Bob actually purchased in Italy

Dance parties - I mentioned before how Italians are too Christian for dance parties, well that doesn't include dancing at the Christian event of a wedding. Bob and I hit the jackpot in Lago di Como with crashing a rehearsal dinner with a DJ who let's just say had a thing for Lady Gaga. After a couple hours of giggling, critiquing, and commenting on the dance party before us....we were about to unleash the robot and the lean back onto the dance floor and get ourselves invites to the wedding the following day when all of a sudden the dance party was over. Lesson Italy - dance parties never end before midnight, that's a direct edict from God, he's told me many times before via the song Dancing in the Moonlight

Entertainment - I've mentioned before that I haven't seen TV in quite awhile, or watched a movie other than on a plane. Bob showed up with seasons of Mad Men and Californication to entertain us on our voyages. I forgot how nice it is to just space out and watch something entertaining every once and a while. When we weren't watching these, Bob filled in the other time with explaining the Godfather 1,2, 3 in their entirety to me; telling me about (and playing me) all the latest top hits from the U.S.; and keeping me informed of the NBA finals scores. Let this serve as notice for future visitors - you may think you're coming to Italy for me to entertain you, but you should also plan to come and entertain me so don't show up empty handed

La Bella Figura - Bob asked me what I like best about Italy and while it's sometimes hard to put in exact words - one of my favourite things is the simple glamour with which Italians live even small moments of their lives, from the way they set a table, to the way they walk (only strolling, never with speed), to the way they treat strangers. I will elaborate on this in a future post, but this can best be described as La Bella Figura. Bob got to see this in action in a few ways, but none was more poignant than when our rental car got broken into and we immediately had 5 random strangers (truth be told, I think two might have been the town pedophiles, but anyway) helping us clean up the glass and insisting that they get every piece out, to tracking down plastic/tape/scissors to help us tape up the window, etc. Italians might initially come off as brutish, but they are also incredibly kind (and meticulous in this kindness).

So those are the highlights and again it was an amazing time from the far South to the far North - thank you Bob! We may not have found Clooney, but at least we found meatballs. Bob where are we going next year??

Ponza - Ciao regazzi!

My belle regazze for a weekend on Ponza Just on our own little boat sailing

through caves in the Mediterranean, you know

A little place called Ponza

Our fearless regazzo, Pietro

Have no fear - there was gelato
Frontone beach - the site of Mere's future

wedding
Whhiiisssperrrre - said in a breathless voice

One of two of Ponza's hotspots

Yes, Tony Ballsy got creepy

And of course no weekend would be

complete without karaoke. Unfortunately

I don't have pics of our domination of

Living on a Prayer and All Night Long.

But it the only time the whole weekend

where we didn't clear the room, so a good sign
On such a short visit, Rome was not

high on the priority list, but we did manage

to hit the topspots......
and pay our respects.

Please note the facial expressions...

Merieta is like whatev, Cornelia is full

of hope that ol Trevi will pull through this time.

And yes, I'll admit it, I threw a coin - my third.

So its official, consider this my engagement

announcement, groom TBD

The view from our apartment on Ponza

with Palmarola (where we took our boat) in the

background - Bellisima

The day after my Dad left two of my favorite belle regazze arrived - Cournelia and Merietta (as they would soon become known). They both had already been to Rome, and a few months ago when I was thinking where we could go close by for the weekend - I came upon a little known place called Ponza, a small island between Naples and Rome. The guidebooks all had very little information about it, but described it as "a hidden gem largely ignored by international tourists" - sounded perfect. Later found out Jude Law likes to hang out there, which was just added to the allure. Little did we know how ignored by international tourists it was....

Side note - Shortly after booking this trip, I also developed a new strategy for my travel in Italy in general. Since clearly work is going to get in the way of me going everywhere I want to go, I've decided to focus on difficult places to get to unless you live in Italy - aka mountains and islands. So don't expect to see Florence or Naples on this blog anytime soon

So on the agenda for Ponza - finally manning a scooter and buzzing around the island, renting our own little boat and cruising around the island and to outer islands in and out of caves (guidebook advised no experience necessary), sunbathing on our private terrace, scouting out Jude Law, and of course having a dance party as can only be done with my American besties. Here's a few of the highlights from the weekend, clearly we had no idea, nor did Ponza, what we were in store for:

- Travel: So I chose Ponza for it's 'closeness' to Rome, and the minimal information offered in the guidebooks said that it was a one hour train ride South and then a 1.5 hour ferry ride. Cornelia and I were in somewhat non-optimal condition (due to a late night before) and Mere was coming off a nine hour flight, but we packed ourselves onto the bus from my house (with tickets in hand, thanks JB) arrived at Termini to our train being sold out. The next train would get us to the ferry 10 minutes before it was leaving, so we started planning how we would sprint with our bags in tow. Once we arrived at the ferry we found out that the ferry was actually "in ritardo" by two hours, one of my favorite Italian expressions meaning late and of optimal use because this is Italy and everything is in ritardo. So we took the opp for a first prosecco and some snacks and soon boarded our ferry. The ride was really pretty and we were enjoying ourselves until 2 hours had gone by and we were still out at sea......we finally arrived after 3 plus hours on the boat and approx 7 hours of travel time - so much for close to Rome.

-Our agenda - So after finally making it to Ponza, we had a quick meal at our local eatery where Merietta requested that they put some dance music on and inquired about the local discotechs (our first info about the legendary Whiissperrre), but soon crashed into bed exhausted, which allowed us to get an early start for Saturday where we immediately set off to get after our agenda of our private boat and scooter rental. Upon arrival at Piscine Naturale, there were about three boats and when we finally got someone's attention - I explained to them that we wanted to take a boat to ourselves to go to Palmarola. He took one look at the three of us, and asked if we had any boating experience, to which I replied - Un po. And by un po, I mean I've been on a boat and I know that you have to wear stripes. After some negotiation, we agreed that he could be our guide, purchased paninis and beers, laid out in the sun, and set off for the open sea. Pietro guided us in and out of tiny caves (Cornelia took fright and thought we may be reenacting Pirates of the Caribbean), let us stop wherever to fare un bagno in the sea, and we generally had an awesome day and when we got back it was only 2pm. We thanked Pietro and headed to Frontone, a beach only accessible by boat, which is also home to Frontone beach and sports club - aka. gorgeous beach side restaurant/lounge where we were the only customers (which soon became real apparent)/aka the site of Meredith's future wedding. We had a 6 course meal with mojitos and local wine, and were enjoying ourselves so much we missed the last boat off the beach. No worries, our new friends took us back AND drove us to our apartment, where we lolled on our terrace to the sunset, and then put our game faces on to hit up the Ponza nightlife. We realized before departing, that we had already been everywhere suggested by the guidebook in our first day, only thing left to do - Whiiisperrre and scooters

Dance parties - I'm not sure why I keep moving to countries where they don't like dance parties - NZeders are too cool, and Italian girls are too Catholic/conservative. Maybe my purpose is to introduce a proper dance party to these countries - of which we certainly did on Ponza and were immediately surrounded by countless sweaty dudes wanting to spin us around the dance floor. So dance party success - although I will admit there were a few unfortunate Snookie moves executed by yours truly, but that are all Marietta's fault

-Our accommodation - I found our apartment on Homeaway.com and really didn't look much further. It was 20 euro a night each, and our gracious host Alfredo was very friendly and welcoming. We soon discovered that our 20 euro didn't give us soap, towels, or toilet paper - but it did afford us an awesome terrace with perfect views of the sunset and Palmarola (complete with a family of visiting cats). Lesson learned - pack like I'm going camping when renting Italian vacation rentals

-Clearing a room - For some reason, no matter where we went - the dance floor of Whisper or the other discoteque, or a cafe for a coffee in the afternoon, to the local gelato shop - as soon as we entered and got comfortable the whole place cleared out. At first we thought maybe a coincidence, but then we started to think we were developing a reputation and people were specifically avoiding the 3 Americans on the island

-Smallness of Ponza - To give you an idea of the smallness of Ponza, during the winter (which they still consider May, crazy Italians), there are only 1500 people on the whole island, and in summer that swells to 35,000. Given that we were visiting in "winter" there weren't many people around. Add to that that 95% of the tourists that go to Ponza are Italian, so Ponza wasn't quite ready for these three Americans and I'm not sure we were ready for Ponza. The smallness does owe itself to making friends. A few of our favs - Sam the bartender from Brazil who had a sweet spot for Cornelia and was trying to romance her with M&Ms; and whatever this dude's name was who ended up tracking us down to introduce us to his 3 year old daughter Sharon with a rocking haircut, or the bumbling man wearing a rosary who we ran into at least three times a day, everyday and for the life of me I could not understand one word that he was saying to us; and a ton of stray dogs all of whom Marietta wanted to adopt and almost did.

As mentioned above, we also made some friends on Frontone, namely the owners of the establishment, one of which was named Antonio Balzano, aka Tony Ballsy. Balzano in italian means crazy/wacky and boy we should have taken that as a sign. Tony Ballsy first impressed us at Frontone with the lavish spread, his knowledge of Ponza's history, the fact that he used to be the mayor, his previous residence in Connecticut, and his perfect English. We soon ran into Tony Ballsy everywhere we went, at first this seemed like coincidence since Ponza is so small, but then it started to get a bit weird, especially when he showed up at the ferry just to wish us goodbye.

Celebrity sightings - While we didn't find Jude Law, we did find a younger hotter version of AC Slater named Mossimo. We first spotted Mossimo on Frontone and marveled at his beauty, needless to say when he entered the discoteque later that night we made him our new best friend. After the fact, we found out that Mossimo is 22, so just about AC Slater's age in Saved by the Bell - perfect

-Italian - Marietta and Cornelia jumped full steam into Italian, with practice on our train ride to Ponza, much to the delight of those sittings next to us. Marietta mastered, "Ciao regazzi" and might have been part of the result of us making so many friends. They also both adopted Italian names for their visit, as the Ponzans couldn't quite master their American ones. The other thing that has happened both with my Dad and M and C, is that by the end of the trip they all are speaking with an Italian accent - like adding an Ehhh, and doing a lot of hand motioning, like speaking in this way makes it easier for Italians to understand you - love it. Miming is also a learned talent of each of my visitors in order to get their point across, of which Cornelia became an expert and charmed many a young man with.

-New business venture - Most of you know that Marietta and I launched a business a few years ago named Good In Bead. It wasn't a raging success mostly because neither of us have the patience for actually making the jewelry - a problem, but they say it takes 10 ideas before a successful business is launched so we're not giving up. Well a new idea has been hatched in the way of SheMoon Adventures - a travel planning company geared towards girls/young ladies/regazze that are interested in adventure and a bit of an ego boost. Ponza is well suited to this venture - so Mere and I will be writing this trip off as research (oh right I don't pay taxes, zing!). Stay tuned for more SheMoon Adventure locations, of which the site of my original MeMoon, Samoa is obviously one. Now open for business...

So back to that agenda - you may have noticed that we didn't scooter, it wasn't for lack of identifying our scooter rental location, it was more that in the end we didn't think we could handle it given how the rest of our weekend played out and the narrowness of the roads/oncoming traffic - you're welcome (for now) Mom. We did however also squeeze in a nice lazy day of shopping in Ponza where Marietta scored two pairs of childrens shoes, and I got a scarf with stripes for our boatride home

So all in all, it was awesome, hilarious, and my favorite part was definitely just having time to lounge and catch up on our hopes and dreams. As I said in my last post, to have dedicated time with so many favorites in my life makes me feel very very lucky. Marietta and Cornelia, it took me awhile to come down off the high of your visit, and to help myself cope I've been looking into our next SheMoon for October!!!!

And tomorrow.....Bob arrives! I know it appears as though I don't work, but I promise you that I do and full-time with technically no vacation days. About one year ago, Bob came to visit me in New Zealand where we journeyed through Middle Earth and chased down waterfalls - this time we're chasing down George Clooney and conquering volcanoes........

Enjoying the quietness and views of my neighborhood,

high above the craziness of the tourist infested streets
Midnight photo shoot at the Colisseum
The glory that is the Pantheon
Taking my Dad to my (and Pope JP's) favorite

gelato shop
On the path of the Illuminati, Dad showing up

Tom Hanks
Dad putting St. Peter's in its place,

right at his fingertips
From my favorite park in Rome, full or

orange trees and a view of St Peter's (which

this lady failed to get in the picture, don't

worry JB made sure to tell her it was a fail)

Hitting up the tourist hotspots
Clowning around on a rainy day in Rome
First time sunbathing on an Italian beach -

very ready to get used to this

I have now successfully made both my parents

pose like statues. I can now come home

While I was a bit worried about how I was going to be a tour guide in a city I can barely navigate after three months, I quickly realized that it was going to be the other way around....my Dad came to Italy to show me up and teach me a thing or two about getting after it. My Dad came for ten days and managed 5 days in Rome (with a day trip to Sperlonga) and 2.5 in Florence and Venice. He tore it up in all of them while taking time to nap and get spa treatments, was a trooper with all the walking I put him through (when will I learn), became a connoisseur of Italian art and history, and somehow managed to become a regular at his favorite spots.

A few things I learned from my Dad's visit.....

Patience - If I had any doubt about where I get my impatience, I've found the answer. It was clear real fast that Italy's pace was going to be even more difficult for him...My Dad says he prays for patience every day and then God puts him in a line a mile long. If I thought I had trouble with Italy's pace of life, my Dad's visit to Italy finally gave me what I've been searching for for the last 18 months - a sense that I can find my patience, I may have to dig real deep at times - but maybe that's what my Dad means by God's long line.

Who's the Boss - If I wondered where I get my 'desire to take charge of situations' nature......From the moment my Dad stepped out of the airplane he wanted to take charge (insisting that I was telling him the wrong train to my HOME). While I've always known this about him, I thought being in a foreign country/where he doesn't speak the language/know his way around AND the fact that I live here - might shift the balance where he would let me lead the way. We could not go anywhere without him insisting upon seeing a map, even in my neighborhood and me insisting that I LIVE HERE, I know where we are. Or ordering food - I wanted to show off my newly learned Italian, but my Dad would beat me to it with a couple - due's, and an aqua naturale and insalata di mare (his fav), and then throw out a Grazie, before I could breathe a word of my carefully crafted full politely worded sentence to place our order. I could use a bit of that initiative

Shopping - As you know, I gave up shopping in NZed and although I've managed to get back into it a bit in Italy (more on my new strateegery shopping soon), I've mostly avoided the famous Italian labels for more quaint little shops near my house. My Dad had already scouted out all the best labels while in Florence and found a few items he liked, and insisted that I definitely needed to own a pair of Prada/Fendi/Gucci/Feragamo sunglasses/shoes/bags/etc. When I found a 15 euro pair of sunglasses that looked pretty similar to the Prada ones he liked for me, "No, those look cheap". In the end I won, and we window shopped, but I'm now dreaming wistfully about a few of the options we saw/tried and I may be back on the shopping wagon...

Becoming a regular - There are a few restaurants right on my street, very close to my house that I always walk by but have never eaten at, because frankly I usually venture further or eat at home. We tried out the restaurant on the corner of my street and it was great (my Dad's favorite meal). He liked it so much that we went back the next night - and now everyday when I walk by they wave at me = Dad made me a regular at my own neighborhood restaurant.

The quiet above the storm - In my typical life here I don't venture into the tourist zones too much if I can help it (although I work next to the Coliseum so somewhat unavoidable). Hitting up the tourist hotspots with my Dad, made me realize how much they've descended in force since I arrived. I've always loved my neighborhood, but I'm even more able to appreciate it now that I know what awaits me below. However, the other night I went to take the garbage out and opened my front gate to a group of tourists taking a picture of my front door - THEY'RE EVERYWHERE

The law is no joke - Unfortunately I implicated my judge father in an Italian crime on his second day in Rome. A bad habit that I've developed since moving here is taking public transport for free. Now this was never a plan to cheat the system, but more of an accident since they never check for tickets and there is often nowhere to buy a ticket/open place to buy a ticket when I want to hop on the bus. I've joked that this was becoming a bad habit and I would probably get caught soon, even on the day my Dad arrived. I tried to straighten myself out for my Dad's visit, but then the bus was coming and we were running late, etc. One stop before we got off - police jumped on and gave us both tickets for 50 euro each. Now while I actually legitimately owed this to the Italian public transport system, my poor Dad did not. Dad - know that I've learned a lesson and I will follow the law from here on out (except when I'm running late/nowhere is open to buy a ticket, and I will endeavour to wear something cuter and get caught by a male policeman instead....)

Some of my favorite moments -

-Eating pizza and watching soccer in a tiny pizza place near Campo di Fiori with my Dad yelling at the screen (not knowing who the teams were) on a rainy Sunday

-Strolling through Trastevere and restaurant hopping to sample some of my Dad's favorite dishes of insalata di mare and spaghetti alle vongole

-Going to night of the museum at the Capitoline and both being on the same page for the speed version of the museum

-Being able to serve my Dad his favorite snack Italian style in my apartment - salami, cheese, and crackers (I added artichokes and olives to the spread)

-Popping into random churches on our walks and conducting our own Illuminati tour

But the biggest thing I learned and my very favorite part of my Dad's visit was how much closer we are. While I get homesick being so far away and feel guilty for not getting to see you all on a daily/monthly basis, I feel so lucky that I get dedicated/special/one on one visits like this that I've never had before. Thank you Dad for coming all this way and showing me how to live it up, eat it up, and generally get after it in Italy

Royal Wedding, arghahaha

Everybody say - Royal Weeeeddddding!!!!
Forget Wil and Cate, I really went to

see these two lovebirds - the LJs. Hadn't seen LJ in

over 1.5 years, and especially wanted to get to know LJ2

The most royal weddingesque thing we did -

Go to a restaurant called the Duke of Cambridge

Wils' new title

Dominating Burrell market, and

stuffing ourselves with raclette, ham, smoothies,

cheese, etc.
From the Tower Bridge
Reuniting with LJ with our favorite activities -

drinking champers while singing karaoke
To make it even better, LJ2 got us

a private room complete with props
And back in Italy, continuing my culinary adventures -

making pizza, and yes I tossed the dough in the air
Cacio e Pepe, so simple, so good
Hanging with the Pope on Easter Sunday at the Vatican,

somehow he failed to warn me that he would be shutting

down the airport and messing with my flight the following

weekend

Royal wedding - When I booked my ticket to London, I didn't realize that it was the same weekend as the royal wedding at first, but then figured, why not? I didn't actually arrive in London until the wedding was long over, but the British flag dresses were still out in force. My first impression after stepping out of the tube was, "Oh, right this is what order and logic feel like again, and even better - people understand me!" London rolled out the royal treatment with beautiful weather, even better than Rome. The LJs also rolled out the royal treatment with a private karaoke room filled with champers and Mariah Carey; American TV shows and couch laying; sushi eating and sake; raclette, Spanish ham and Comte cheese; a trip to the Duke of Cambridge restaurant in honor of Prince Wils' new title; frolicking with the kiddies at the Princess Diana memorial in Hyde Park; a walk over the Tower Bridge; a trip to St Paul's to reminisce about past royal weddings; a breakfast that included eggs instead of just various bread products; and a Starbucks coffee (my first since January 2010, frankly it could have been any coffee in a to go cup larger than a thimble and I would have loved it). You may not think all of these have a lot to do with a trip to London or the royal wedding, and I know you wanted to hear about all the hats and the kiss from Buckingham Palace - but they're royal treatment for me since I don't get most of these things in Italy. It felt a bit like a mix of home and being back in New Zealand, combined with a bit of Royal wedding kitsch. The LJs and I had a good time making fun of all things British, and just saying Royal wedding and harharharing all weekend. It was my first European trip since moving here, and I'm definitely loving being able to visit other countries/places so quickly/easily, and have a great friend so close! Thanks LJs! Had a blast and can't wait till our next adventure somewhere on the Continent

And in true Italy fashion, when I arrived at Gatwick in London to fly back to Rome, I was informed that my flight was delayed by an unknown amount of time because the Pope had decided to shut down the airport. At first I laughed cause I thought this was just some good British humour, but no it was no joke. Good ol' Benedict decided to shut down the airport so he could fly his buddies in and out for JP's beatification. I finally made it home 4.5 hours after I was scheduled to, at 1am, at which point of course all of Italy's public transport is no longer running. It all made for some good laughs and definitely made me feel like I was coming home. Oh, Italy

A few recent Italy realizations in honor of my 100 days in Italy (exactly on May 14th):

-I've recently noticed how many songs Rome is in, no matter the genre

-I can finally contemplate NZ without breaking down in tears. This realization has given me a new love for my thesis, as it transports me back to NZ every time I work on it (don't take this as that I don't love Italy. There was going to be an adjustment/mourning period no matter where I went afterward and I'm sorry Italy has gotten the brunt of it, but it had to happen)

-The linked arm behind the back stroll (Clasp hands behind back and sloooooowly meander along). This might be my favourite, but I think it might only be allowed for those over 70. No matter, I've been practising in my terrace as I'm pretty sure its a learned art an must take many years of practice given the age group executing it

-Being called Bella everyday/all the time. We should really adopt some equivalent, even if it is commonplace and doesn't necessarily mean you're pretty - it doesn't get old

-Customer service, now this could be a love/hate as there is actually no customer service in the American concept of the term (i.e. something breaks, and someone comes to fix it and gives you a refund or gift for your trouble). But feeling like your dry cleaner, banker, coffee dude, prosciutto man, etc. are all your special friends because they really make you feel that way - by asking about your family, where you're from, stopping to chat when you run into them, calling you Bella, having a dance party together, the list goes on. Is it weird that my favorite people all perform some service for me? Well, not in Italy

-Accepting that things will not work, so when they do, it's like a great surprise. I can now laugh at all the ridiculous inefficiencies and illogicalness of life here

In Italian language news - I managed to meet two of the five Italian language exchangers that responded to my ad - Claudio and Guido. A lot of you expressed concerns about these encounters, so you will be happy to know that I not only survived, but I made some new friends. While neither of these raggazzi are dating material (both shorter than me as just one reason), they are very patient with my Italian and have invited me out twice since our first encounter. Hopefully before long, thanks to them, I will finally be able to speak

Today my first visitor to Italy arrives - James Beall himself. He informed me that he purchased a new wardrobe to be "fashionable" in Italy, so I'm looking forward to that, and fattening him up with Italian food, having an excuse to be a tourist for a few days, and our general bonding time. It will also be a good experiment as I don't even feel like I know how to live here, so showing someone around is going to be real interesting.

Capital Thoughts goes to Africa, aka Vegas

Buona Pasqua!

Trying to practice taking it slower

The park by my house, Villa Doria Pamphili,

where I've become the local creep among the

castles

Becoming a Tunisian bride - almost
Sidi Bou Said's blue doors
Just your average working sunset from the

terrace of my hotel room in La Marsa
Downtown Tunis, the site of the revolution
The only yellow door in all of Sidi Bou Said,

the doors and windows are painted blue to keep out

mosquitos (apparently this house loves bugs - like me!)
Sidi Bou Said - get here while prices

are at rock bottom
The port between Sidi Bou Said and Carthage
Umm yes I would like to come back here

So in my efforts to catch up on this blog I will skip over my trip to America and the Bahamas, even though yes there were capitals involved in my trips. Suffice it to say it was awesome, too short, and while I tried to mentally prepare to avoid the emotional turmoil that I felt on my last visit (June 2010) - I think it's just the way it probably goes when you only go home for two weeks total in 18 months. Thank you to all of you that I got to see for putting up with my mania once again, for hosting me, and setting aside time to make my short stay so fun filled. One day I will come home again and get to see those of you I didn't see and hopefully have more time with all of you. A few highlights I will share - an epic dance party/karaoke session with a few of my all-time favorite ladies, FINALLY going through the stuff I left when I moved to New Zealand and getting organized and laughing at old memories and stuff with my Mom and sis, finally getting to see Bob's bachelor pad, riding on the Current in the Atlantis and yelling I LOVE THE CURRENT at least once a day for five days straight, getting to share in the wonderful wedding weekend of Kaitlyn and Matt and get to know some of their friends better who are now my friends, and one of the all time highlights, when someone asked me where I live and I said Rome, they said, "Oh, Rome, New York - I know someone there".

Rome (Italy) welcomed me back with open arms and warm sunny days. I realized when I walked back into my apartment and went to work the first day that it does actually feel like home now, and that I actually live here. And with that cozy feeling, I immediately had to get busy getting ready for a work trip to Tunisia. Given that Tunisia had a bit of a revolution a few months ago, I had to get an advanced security clearance in order to travel there. What this meant was taking another 3 hour exam (refer back to my Basic Security in the Field exam from December). I now know how to tell directions and find my way based on the old stick in the ground/shadow method; where to build a shelter and with what materials along a river or a desert; how to coordinate with the military in a peacekeeping/military mission; and I'm even better at spotting landmines. Now, even with all that I wasn't too worried about traveling to Tunisia because I was going with two male colleagues and our assistant had arranged a UN car to pick us up at the airport. I ended up finding out late on Friday night that I was actually on a different flight than my colleagues (10 hours earlier) and there would be no airport pick-up for me. So I packed my bag full of scarves and full-coverage clothing to make myself as Muslim looking/respectful as possible, dug deep to resurrect my French, and hoped for the best.

Although I ended up taking a pirated cab from the airport (and scolding myself the whole ride with my hand on the doorhandle in case I needed to quickly expel myself), all was fine other than getting slightly ripped off (which I had expected anyway). The driver and I had a few nice chuckles in French about him ripping me off, and he delivered me safely to my gorgeous hotel where I was greeted by a nice limeade refreshment and a seaside terrace. I only had Sunday afternoon to explore so I headed straight for Sidi Bou Said outside of Tunis. I was slightly worried about walking around as a woman alone as I had been told that it wasn't well accepted. The first shop I walked into, the shop-owner offered me a tour of the ancient building and then a tour of the town, where he became my personal photographer. I kept saying he didn't need to escort me, but he then offered me a tea (one of the best I've ever had) in the oldest teahouse in the town, some sunflower seeds, and bought me a fried donut. I was beginning to wonder how much I was going to end up owing after this treatment, but in the meantime we discussed the revolution, life in Tunisia, the upcoming elections, and the history of Sidi Bou Said. He also showed me the former dictator's house and filled me in on all the gossip surrounding his expulsion/flee. I ended up purchasing a few items from his shop hoping that that would be a good exchange and then tried to sell me a 1,000 Euro coral necklace, then asked me to dinner and said, "Don't worry I won't eat you". Ummm, and that's when I made my exit......

But in general, the parts of Tunisia that I saw are gorgeous, people are really friendly, my scarves and Muslim-wear were unnecessary (although I felt myself becoming more Muslim as I tisked at the Western women wearing short skirts/bare arms), and it feels/seems very calm. There are tanks and barbed wire downtown around the government buildings, but people seem happy. A group of little German kids were even posing in front of one of the tanks (tried to snap a pic, but was too slow). I asked a few Tunisians about the revolution and crime and the lack of a government, and they said that before the revolution there was no crime and that it has increased to the point of pickpocketing - so basically Tunisia is safer than Rome. People are very hopeful about the elections in July, although slightly worried that the more extreme Islamists might win because they are the most organized at this point. Tourism is one of Tunisia's main industries/incomes and obviously the industry has completely tanked (excuse the pun) - so get there and help the economy remain stable - its beautiful, the food is delicious (seafood, olives, harissa, feta, couscous), people are friendly, and the Tunisians are hot.

Workwise the conference in Tunisia was a bit surreal as the entire conference was structured around a tool that I created while at the IDB. So basically it was two days of having presented to me a tool that I created. One of the weirdest professional experiences I've ever had, but I guess such is life as a consultant where you don't own your work. However, it was also one of the best organized/moderated workshops I have ever been to. Everything ran on time, it was super productive, great food and smoothies during coffee breaks, professional photographers, no boring presentations or people falling asleep. So if you're planning a conference - another reason to head to Tunisia.

Back to Italy - The flight from Tunisia is only one hour and on Tunis Air they somehow fit in serving you a meal. Now granted for breakfast this amounted to three servings of bread (croissant, roll, and muffin) but still impressive. Landing in Rome however on a flight from Tunisia = the most ridiculous customs line I have ever seen, definitely longer than the flight and probably due to a small war that Italy is having with France over Tunisian immigrants right now. My colleagues both have diplomatic UN passports, but again as a measly consultant I just have my ol USA passport and an Italian identity card that I've never been sure of the point of. Upon seeing the line they suggested we go in the diplomat line (or no line as the case is) and that they would try to get me through. We presented our documents and they let me and my German boss right through and told my colleague who is ITALIAN (with a diplomatic passport) that he had to go in the normal line. Oh the hilarity and lack of logic of Italy - welcome home.

It's Easter weekend which means four days off for me. Thanks first to Jesus and second to Italy for being so Catholic. With my travel to the states and then Tunisia I have decided to stay close to home this weekend and practice my passegiata before I head off to the Royal Wedding next weekend and a dance party with the LJs.

In Italian language learning news, I've decided enough is enough and I need to shake things up a bit if I'm ever going to feel comfortable speaking. I posted a listing on a consultants listserve for a language exchange and got 6 responses - all men. Their names are Guido, Claudio, Marco, Stefano, Lorenzo, and Mario (no, I'm not kidding). I've decided that I'm going to meet them all for humor's and learning's sake, and maybe at the same time Juliet will finally check her email