I traveled Italia with my Palm V . . . and found love, intrigue, drama and glamour . . . and a lot of cappuccino!

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Italy: 12-28-99 impressions of the flight over Uneventful, despite a 3 hour delay leaving O'Hare. I jabber on my cell phone to kill time (very Euro). After boarding the plane I find I'm a very lucky girl, having scored a row of two seats. Across from me is an Italian family accompanied by their American son. The father is VERY loud, jabbering in Italian for many hours until I ask, relatively politely, "do you think he can talk a little quieter?" Ah . . . I'm surely making friends, but I need my beauty sleep desperately. Italy: 12-29-99 50's balmy, partly cloudy I awake, well, wake may be a relative term, since sleep was slightly elusive. No matter, now the Alps are now clearly visible through the plane window - very few clouds. The Alps are gorgeous. I gaze out at them, and scan their snowy expanse for skiiers. None. Wow. They're amazing, and I feel completely insignificant. I want to ski. We land, I say "Ciao!" to my neighbors, steal an Alitalia blanket (acrylic, but had the look and feel of pashmina), escape into Malpensa airport, quickly distancing myself from the American tourists with their ugly, loud, Teddy bear printed shirts and fanny packs. My careful cover is blown, of course, when a very handsome Italian man says something to me, I smile somewhat blankly and stutter "Uh, si!". He grins at me, and I have no idea what I've just agreed to. I merely smile back at him, embarrassed to be a monolingual American. I vow once again to at least listen to the "learn Spanish!" tapes I bought 4 (!) years ago. Inside Malpensa, my bag has been damaged already - the strap torn off. No matter, off to the train. I try to appear confident and purposeful, walking rapidly, despite my slight confusion and embarrassing lack of knowledge of Italian. I locate the train to Milan anyway (I had great directions!), then the subway to Centrale F.S. where I will board the train to Firenze. I arrive at R&T's, having scored a very cute cab driver (no accident). Tommy spies me through the window, says "She's here!!" sees the cab driver "Hey - let's keep him!" and then blushes and laughs when he hears me pay for my ride in English. Dinner: minestrone with osso bucco, bacon wrapped veal, vino rosso. Here's a scene in the apartemento, cooking Tommystyle, with Richard cutting the tomatoes. I'm seen here, happily eating! R&T's neighborhood, looking out the window at Il Rifrullo, and the view from the front door looking north. If you walk up the street, and turn right, there's the Arno River, Ponte Vecchio and Firenze proper. Lovely! We head over to Il Rifrullo after dinner, the bar/restaurant that is directly across the street for a night cap. I discover their Kir Royales, and am hooked. So elegant, tasty and predictably expensive. I meet Massimo, Cisco and the rest of the gang there - this is an extension of Richard and Tommy's living room! It's literally so close, that I dash over without a coat. I dash over again the next morning for cappuccino! Here we see the scene outside Richard and Tommy's actual living room - with Il Rifrullo clearly visible in the bottom left corner! I loved this place - you can check out the scene before you even head over! Italy: 12-30-99 12:14 pm 40's chilly, sunny I arise elegantly at 11:30, all traces of the jet lag that always seem to elude, are gone. I test the water in Richard and Tommy's spacious blue tile bathroom - cold. Who needs a shower anyway? I've gone Euro, so I merely wash my face. Note to self The cell phones here are fabulous. I get an enthusiastic lesson in the use of the front door key from George, Richard's 80 year old father, and depart - for the bar/ristorante directly across the street. When I say this place is directly across the street, I mean, immediately if not sooner! Sitting in Il Rifrullo, R&T's "living room", having a cafe con leche. . . er, I mean cappuccino before I head out, I find I can use what little Spanish I know (and this is a *real* overstatement) quite effectively - to order cafe or vino russo, mariscos, panne, osso bucco - see a pattern? FOOD! I'm writing this on my Palm V, (and later added copy after my return home) which of course attracts attention. It's not as easy to write in as my trusty blue travel journal, which I've dragged along as a backup, but I'm determined to become the Totally Cyber Travel Girl - as all my observations will live on my web page when I return home (a thought I eschew at this particular minute). Notes to self: Get a scooter. Sew iridescent orange long silk skirt - its still all about orange. 3:40 PM Shopping!? I stop for an Orangina, and try to make believe I live here. If I keep my mouth shut, it may be possible to pass for a native. Three rich American prep school boys are at the next table - my ruse is complete as I wink at one and he blushes. Haircut 100 is on the radio. Glamorous Hermes glassware, in yet another over the top opulent window display. Note to self Learn Italian, or at least Spanish already. continue search for the quintessential pair of skintight Italian leather pants. As long as I order drinks, I'm passing! Acqua ninerale con gaz, Orangina . . . walking back from the bar. I mutter "scoozi" to the Dad of aforementioned boys - this is fun, but then I'm easily amused. Fabulous, fur-lined high heels on "expensivo" street. Fashion observations black nylon down jacket cell phones black boots with heels - perfecto! scarfs, scarfs, scarfs Italian techno on the radio.. Time to head back to R&T's and recharge the Palm V . . . oh, maybe one drink at Il Rifrullo . . .

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