09 June 2009
come ho gia detto...
[also I've added pictures of Rome to la citta eterna]
As previously stated... I have been living a myth. Really. I have recently returned from San Felice Circeo, where I was for the weekend with Patrizia (Camilla's mother) and Valentina (Camilla's sister, whom Patrizia calls "Valentine" when speaking in her broken English - I like this). Patrizia and I drove down towards Napoli Friday evening, dodging the other drivers on the highway, who wove in and out of traffic like you don't even know. Patrizia is trying to quit smoking, so the drive was filled with half-smoked, super-slim cigarettes. The car would sway a little each time she reached out the partially-opened window to extinguish the cigarette-ettes on the side of the rearview mirror (which, I might add, seemed to be its sole purpose in this life). Though we both made a sincere effort at normal conversation, it tended inevitably towards syntax and lexicon and was very stop-and-go, half in Italian and half in English.
We in Circeo to a dinner of deliciously fresh pasta (truly al dente - on a slight side note, apparently pasta packages in the US actually multiply cooking time by 2 or 3!) with garlic and cherry tomatoes. The conversation at the table shifted dramatically from that of the drive there, to Italian men (and later, Italian men in politics, i.e. Berlusconi). Essentially what was established is that Italian men are idiots (Idioti! Idioti! Idioti!), though Valentina made sure to say that really she liked Italian men, they just needed to be trained. And that Berlusconi (who has explicitly likened himself to Napoleon…?!) pretty much embodies all that is schifoso of Italian men. "Kiki, tu sei troppo vecchia per lui…" Too old?? He's 72! But ok, if I'm too old, I'm too old, I think I can live with myself - but how can he???
The next morning, after my two or three shots of espresso, several biscotti, and a slightly depressing look out the window (clouds, clouds, clouds), Valentina offered to take me on her bike to see the paesi di Circeo on her bike. If there's one thing that I regret not having done last time I was in Italy, it's seeing more of the country, so of course, I accepted. By "bike" (in Italy) I was kind of expecting her to mean scooter. But, no, she meant motorbike. Like serious business motorcycle.Something I had definitely never been on before. It was fun, though. She took me to her favorite beach, Saubadia (?), where the mountains of San Felice (San Felice Promontorio) come straight down into the sea. It was absolutely stunning.
I confess that I did not actually catch onto the full meaning of "Circeo" until Valentina explained it to me. Evidently, this town is where Odysseus landed and had his encounter with Circe. More specifically, this beach. I couldn't say why it never occurred to me that the Odyssey might take place in really real places. Well, I guess it did, I just never thought I would visit any of them! Least of all someplace like Circe's beach.
When we arrived here it was actually sunny, but though we were wearing our swimsuits, we had forgotten towels, so we returned to the house, got towels, and stopped to buy some pizza for lunch, on our way back. The second we stepped off the bike it started to rain. But we went down and ate our pizza on the windy beach anyway, before giving up all hope a half hour later. The entire day was changeable like this. Later the three of us went into town, did some "shopping" (kind of) and bought chicken and potatoes for dinner.
This morning we woke up to more clouds, and though for a few minutes things seemed to lighten up, we ultimately decided to head back to Rome, Patrizia and I in the VW and Valentina on her bike. In the rain. This drive was different from the one before (though syntax and lexicon were still highly prevalent). I had noticed before many women standing by the side of the highway, and while I assumed that they were prostitutes, it still seemed a little strange. So I asked, and she confirmed. The weird part was her explanation. I asked why they were allowed to be there (I assumed prostitution was illegal - and it is) and she said that the police "chiudono gli occhi," they shut their eyes to it. Somehow I wasn't surprised. Really the rest of the explanation was only odd to me because when I was here before, it was made very clear to me that the Mafia really only existed in the south of Italy (though, I guess, Napoli could be considered the south). However, Patrizia told me that all these prostitutes were controlled by a Mafioso. She even gave me the name of the man, though I don't remember.
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