I'm headed up to Lake Como tomorrow for 4 days. I haven't given up on trying to get to Sicily, but it was taking me forever to piece together hotels in the towns I wanted to go to; and I need to get out of the city for a couple of days. I'm staying in Como and definitely spending a day in Bellagio and a couple other of the lake villages. And, if I happen to run into George Clooney and he happens to invite me to live in his villa forever, I'll be sure to send invitations to come see me.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Lake Como
I'm headed up to Lake Como tomorrow for 4 days. I haven't given up on trying to get to Sicily, but it was taking me forever to piece together hotels in the towns I wanted to go to; and I need to get out of the city for a couple of days. I'm staying in Como and definitely spending a day in Bellagio and a couple other of the lake villages. And, if I happen to run into George Clooney and he happens to invite me to live in his villa forever, I'll be sure to send invitations to come see me.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Frascati
I made the executive decision that I needed to do something other than la dolce niente (sweet nothing) while I am in Rome, so I headed out to Frascati on Wednesday. It’s only about 30 kilometers from Rome and a quick 20 minute train ride. The town is very small and not that interesting; however, it is the home to what now runs through my veins, Frascati wine! We hit a couple of enoteca’s for wine sampling and wandered around a pretty little park. And of course, drank too much vino.
Pretty park right outside the center of Frascati
a statue in the park that had seen better days. Not sure where the rest of him went. . .
stairs leading up to a little chapel
Villa Tuscolana, beautiful hotel and restaurant
view from one of the gardens
You can see Rome. That's St. Peters dome in the middle.
driveway of Villa Tuscolana
gorgeous private villa on the hill over the town
gardens around villa
Monument to vino at the train station
Pretty park right outside the center of Frascati
a statue in the park that had seen better days. Not sure where the rest of him went. . .
stairs leading up to a little chapel
Villa Tuscolana, beautiful hotel and restaurant
view from one of the gardens
You can see Rome. That's St. Peters dome in the middle.
driveway of Villa Tuscolana 
gorgeous private villa on the hill over the town
gardens around villa
Monument to vino at the train station Recovery and Relapse
I spent all day Saturday and Sunday after Liz left recovering from 2 solid weeks or nonstop laughter, drinking, eating, and more laughter. I did some laundry, wrote a couple of blog posts, and watched English-language TV at my friend’s flat. But sobriety doesn’t seem to last long here.
Naz returned from Positano and we went out for a drink on Sunday, that turned into 2 bottles. Seriously??? Then on Monday we had plans to go to a restaurant near the Spanish Steps. That was all very sophisticated until the vino started. We finished a litre at the restaurant and then headed across the street to Enoteca Antica, the nice little wine bar Liz introduced me. You know the one with Gulliver/Massimo. . . Geedyuppa. And, yes, he was working again. And yes, I got him to say “geedyupa”. And yes, I had to call Liz in the States so she could enjoy the nonsense too. And finally, yes, we had at it until 3am when I crawled into bed oozing vino. Tuesday was a lost day to sleep and liver rejuvenation. I finally used the pool; it was the perfect day to just lay there, get a tan, and cool off in all 1 metre of water. It was actually very very niiiiiiiice!
Gulliver!
lunch on the patio
recovering beside the pool
Naz returned from Positano and we went out for a drink on Sunday, that turned into 2 bottles. Seriously??? Then on Monday we had plans to go to a restaurant near the Spanish Steps. That was all very sophisticated until the vino started. We finished a litre at the restaurant and then headed across the street to Enoteca Antica, the nice little wine bar Liz introduced me. You know the one with Gulliver/Massimo. . . Geedyuppa. And, yes, he was working again. And yes, I got him to say “geedyupa”. And yes, I had to call Liz in the States so she could enjoy the nonsense too. And finally, yes, we had at it until 3am when I crawled into bed oozing vino. Tuesday was a lost day to sleep and liver rejuvenation. I finally used the pool; it was the perfect day to just lay there, get a tan, and cool off in all 1 metre of water. It was actually very very niiiiiiiice!
Gulliver!
lunch on the patio
recovering beside the poolLiz’s final day
Friday was a clean up day; we wrapped all the loose ends we hadn’t attended to before Liz flew home on Saturday. We met Naz for lattes and then lunch at Siciliainbocca, a restaurant Liz and Fred ate at when they were here in October. They went to the restaurant in Prati, over by Vatican City, and yet with a touch of research I found they also had a restaurant right here in Trastevere. And when I say right herein Trastevere, I literally mean right here, about 100 metres away from my front door. What a great find. The food was ridiculously delicious and the décor was very Mediterranean.
just a few of the many salads that make their way out.
Liz, Naz, and I
homemade prickle pear brandy
storm clouds gathering as we walked across the river
After lunch we finished off the shopping requirements, marshmallow candy for her son and pope bottle openers for a friend from work. And one for each of us, of course (that is just too funny to pass up). Liz also finally got a gelato from the BEST GELATI PLACE ON THE EARTH, Della Palma, near the Pantheon. We also got reservations at a restaurant on top of Castel Sant’Angelo near St. Peter’s. In the summer, there is a festival with jugglers, musicians, flamenco dancers, skits, etc all over the fort, as well as a makeshift restaurant with a very cool vibe to it. So, we had a couple of drinks by the river then a nice dinner outside on one of the battlements of the castle. It was a great way to end Liz’s two week trip.
drinks outside Castell Sant'Angelo
candle lit restaurant on top of Castell Sant'Angelo
Liz's view from her seat at the restaurant
just a few of the many salads that make their way out. Liz, Naz, and I homemade prickle pear brandy storm clouds gathering as we walked across the riverAfter lunch we finished off the shopping requirements, marshmallow candy for her son and pope bottle openers for a friend from work. And one for each of us, of course (that is just too funny to pass up). Liz also finally got a gelato from the BEST GELATI PLACE ON THE EARTH, Della Palma, near the Pantheon. We also got reservations at a restaurant on top of Castel Sant’Angelo near St. Peter’s. In the summer, there is a festival with jugglers, musicians, flamenco dancers, skits, etc all over the fort, as well as a makeshift restaurant with a very cool vibe to it. So, we had a couple of drinks by the river then a nice dinner outside on one of the battlements of the castle. It was a great way to end Liz’s two week trip.
drinks outside Castell Sant'Angelo candle lit restaurant on top of Castell Sant'Angelo Liz's view from her seat at the restaurantRandom Liz and I in Rome stuff
I would have made a whole lot more sense to post these little stories before leaving for Croatia, but not having internet in the apartment made that pretty much impossible. Whatever, better late than never.
We did have that dinner at Pizzaria Baffetto off Piazza Navona; it was really good pizza. But more importantly, we ended up sitting beside two Roman guys named Massimo and Paolo. They were really nice and very informative about many things. I think my favorite part of the night was when they wrote down the best curse words to use in Italian and Liz kept screaming cazzo (fuck) to make sure she was saying it right. Poor Paolo looked like he wanted to be swallowed up by the side-walk. It finally hit home when I told her, “stop yelling that so loud; it would be like me sitting at the Majestic Café and repeatedly yelling FUCK”. Hilarious!!
cursing in Italian. Not sure why the picture has rotated itself.
Tuesday night, before we left for Croatia, we went to a great little wine bar on Via delle Croce near Piazza Spagna. Liz and Fred found it when they were in Rome in October. It’s really cute inside, serves delicious olives and cheeses, and has a great selection of vino. Our bartender’s name was Massimo; however, he told Liz it was Gulliver, so Gulliver it has become. He was hilarious and was willing to joke around with us. In fact, we taught him one of the best all time American phrases that Liz and I use often. . . . giddyup (Loralei, I know you appreciate that one) There are no words to describe how hard we laughed when he said it with his Italian accent and then got one of the other waiters to say it too. . . .GEEDDYUPA. I think that word became the catch phrase for the entire trip. All over Europe, people are using GEEDDYUPA as the American way to say cheers. God, we are such assholes.
geeddyupa!
fromaggi
olives!
the start of a lot of laughter
fun, fun
haaaaaaa!
molto vino at Enoteca Antica
We did have that dinner at Pizzaria Baffetto off Piazza Navona; it was really good pizza. But more importantly, we ended up sitting beside two Roman guys named Massimo and Paolo. They were really nice and very informative about many things. I think my favorite part of the night was when they wrote down the best curse words to use in Italian and Liz kept screaming cazzo (fuck) to make sure she was saying it right. Poor Paolo looked like he wanted to be swallowed up by the side-walk. It finally hit home when I told her, “stop yelling that so loud; it would be like me sitting at the Majestic Café and repeatedly yelling FUCK”. Hilarious!!
cursing in Italian. Not sure why the picture has rotated itself.Tuesday night, before we left for Croatia, we went to a great little wine bar on Via delle Croce near Piazza Spagna. Liz and Fred found it when they were in Rome in October. It’s really cute inside, serves delicious olives and cheeses, and has a great selection of vino. Our bartender’s name was Massimo; however, he told Liz it was Gulliver, so Gulliver it has become. He was hilarious and was willing to joke around with us. In fact, we taught him one of the best all time American phrases that Liz and I use often. . . . giddyup (Loralei, I know you appreciate that one) There are no words to describe how hard we laughed when he said it with his Italian accent and then got one of the other waiters to say it too. . . .GEEDDYUPA. I think that word became the catch phrase for the entire trip. All over Europe, people are using GEEDDYUPA as the American way to say cheers. God, we are such assholes.
geeddyupa!
fromaggi
olives!
the start of a lot of laughter
fun, fun
haaaaaaa!
molto vino at Enoteca Antica Thursday, July 24, 2008
Pompei
I’m not exactly sure how, but we managed to get home from Dubrovnik Wednesday evening and get ourselves out of bed for an early train to Naples, Thursday morning. I looooove sleeping on trains, so it was a nice 3 hours in my world. We then got on the scary nasty subway train out to Pompei. I’ve got to say, the archeological site was about 100 degrees cooler this time, than when I was here 4 years ago with Joey. Our feet, however ended up just as nasty and the priority of finding the whore house and Man weighing his junk fresco was just as high. Did you really expect more of us?
Really? That's a fresco you want in your entrance hall? Haaaaaa!
now you know you're near the whore house!
and now you know you're in the whore house because this is part of the menu.
volcano!
a delcious beer after wandering around Pompei
those feet are so naaas-tee!
Really? That's a fresco you want in your entrance hall? Haaaaaa!
now you know you're near the whore house!
and now you know you're in the whore house because this is part of the menu. 
volcano!
a delcious beer after wandering around Pompei
those feet are so naaas-tee!Playing with the Mariachi Band
The video is really dark, but if watch towards the right side, you can Liz's white pants wiggling around.
Pupo. . . the grand finale
After such an enormous day on Monday, we decided to take it easy on ourselves Tuesday. We returned the car to a rental agent who couldn’t be tossed about the “accident” and was puzzled as to why we would return it early, and we then hit the beach on the Lapad Peninsula. Two lounge chairs and an umbrella by the water later, we spent a lazy day in the sun. It was definitely a nice second to the who knows what misadventures would have happened in Montenegro.
the view from my lounge chair at the beach.
For dinner we finally ate at Tony’s Spaghetteria, which we had walked by about 100 times since it was right outside the door of the sobe. Every single time we went by, someone was eating creamy, cheesy, scrumptious looking pastas; now it was our turn, and it was gooooooood! As was the ½ litre of wine that accompanied it. Please do not judge us for only ordering a ½ litre; we knew we were headed back to Pupo, (apparently, I say apparently because I had no memory of it, we made plans to meet up with Jared, Tim, the Swiss Couple, Martina, and the waiters about 8:30). And so we did.
Yum: tortellini with gorgonzola and walnuts, green linguine with chicken, and VINO!
When we finally got to Pupo Jared and Tim were a few shots of grappa in and had been waiting for us. The situation was definitely different than the night before. Ivan was not in the same form he had been on our previous visit and the two kids from California kept calling me “Teach”, touching my shoulder, and actually broke out the Mrs. Robinson fantasy on me (I wanted to punch them, but didn’t because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep drinking if I did). In all fairness, it was really only the one with the long hair that was UBER annoying. So annoying in fact, Liz got up and left to go hang out with the wait staff inside. Martina and her sister Nicola had joined us by that point and were also irritated with Jared. An Irish couple who were sitting next to us also put a bit of a downer on the start of the evening. While Ivan was waiting on them, he was taking the piss out of them about being from Dublin. He must have gone too far and not noticed they were getting angry because the guy had a complete melt down and made it clear he would never come back, blah, blah, blah. Martina, the owner’s wife, of course heard it all. She told Ivan who then pouted a bit, and I just kept sucking down vino (can’t let a little bit of discontent get in my way).
Eventually the California kids left, after I promised to meet them at an Irish pub around the corner (yeah, that didn’t happen) and went inside to see what Liz was up to. And this is where things take an upward swing and start to get a bit hazy for all involved. To my best guess, the kitchen had closed because I know the guys were washing dishes and cleaning the burners etc. It would be at this point that I noticed Chris, the chef, was wearing latex medical-like gloves and I commented on such gloves. He then made a reference towards me and the gloves; and I, simply because I could, shrugged in agreement, turned around, and bent over ever so briefly. Why you ask? Alcohol and I’m pretty much in the gutter 23 of 24 hours a day, I answer (again). The whole place lost it, including Ivan who is resistant to real laughter. And so it went. I then found myself behind the counter shoving the dishwasher out of the way and taking over the task. Chris gave me my own pair of gloves, instructed me on how to spray the anti-bacterial spray on the glasses and the sponge, and then wash away. While one would think it’s not rocket science to wash some dishes, and its not, Chris came over and corrected my spraying of the glasses. I found this totally hilarious since I pulled a glass out of the glass rack and asked who had washed the nasty thing. They all laughed and said it hadn’t been touched in about 6 months. Yeah, and I needed instructions on how to was a damn glass. I was a washing fool; there wasn’t a glass or litre carafe left un-scoured. And, more importantly, I had paved the way for Liz and I to practically take over the joint. We just started pouring our selves wine and wandering around like we owned the place. At some point the Swiss Couple showed up and because I had no more dishes to wash, I started serving drinks too. I’m telling you, next year I will be running the show at Pupo.
With all of the chores completed, Liz, Ivan, Chris, Martina, the Swiss Couple, and I all took our places around the tables outside for more wine and fun. As we were hanging out, a Mariachi band came down the sidewalk (they were there from Andalusia for the music festival) to play and sing; they were really good. Due to high quantities of alcohol and well, just because, we got up and started playing their little percussion eggs with them. I can honestly say that I have never been a dishwasher, waitress, and member of a Mariachi band all in one night. In fact 2 of those three were brand new endeavors all the way around. Ivan brought out rounds of drinks and we all got started again. To my best approximation, the Mariachi band drifted off about 1:30 and I then proceeded to wash up all the newly dirtied glasses so the restaurant could officially be closed. I know, I know, there is no good reason for all the dishwashing; but it was damn funny!
While I wish I could end the post here and say we went to bed at a reasonable hour, I cannot. We went to the Irish bar, thankfully after California kids were gone, to hang with the Mariachi band. That bar closed at 2am, so Chris, Cutie Waiter (can’t remember his name but he’s the guy who gave us our first grappa the previous night), Liz, and I proceeded to a locals bar just outside the Pile Gate. That needed to happen; not so much! We hung out there for an hour or so; Chris and I talked about the war, and we had more unnecessary wine. Finally at 4am we staggered back to our sobe for 5 hours of drunken sleep. Wednesday’s hangover goes down as one of the legendary ones. We had to be out of our place at 10am, but weren’t being picked up for the airport until a little after 1pm. Wandering around Dubrovnik nauseous, tired, headachy, thirsty, and hot is no way to live; and I was almost positive I wouldn’t survive it. What seemed like an eternity later, we boarded our flight back to Rome, where I promptly passed out and slept through takeoff and the entire flight. Even feeling envious of the dead due to my hangover, I would not have traded a single minute of my time in Croatia!
Really? Your teaching me to wash dishes?
So, its spray glasses, then spray sponge, then wash? Ok, I think I can handle that.
seriously? You're correcting me again?
Ivan serving me wine as I wash dishes. If my parents would have taken this approach to dishwashing when I was a kid, I wouldn't have fought it so much.
must spray antibacterial on everything even though they did not have a scrubber to fit inside the carafe. Hmm. . .
serving drinks with a smile
Liz and Ivan
cutie waiter practising saying, naaas-tee
the whole gang: Martina, Liz, Ivan, Swiss Couple, Me
Liz gettin' it on with the Mariachi band as Ivan brings out more drinks.
the day after; now I know what I will look like upon my own death. It ain't pretty!
the view from my lounge chair at the beach.For dinner we finally ate at Tony’s Spaghetteria, which we had walked by about 100 times since it was right outside the door of the sobe. Every single time we went by, someone was eating creamy, cheesy, scrumptious looking pastas; now it was our turn, and it was gooooooood! As was the ½ litre of wine that accompanied it. Please do not judge us for only ordering a ½ litre; we knew we were headed back to Pupo, (apparently, I say apparently because I had no memory of it, we made plans to meet up with Jared, Tim, the Swiss Couple, Martina, and the waiters about 8:30). And so we did.
Yum: tortellini with gorgonzola and walnuts, green linguine with chicken, and VINO!When we finally got to Pupo Jared and Tim were a few shots of grappa in and had been waiting for us. The situation was definitely different than the night before. Ivan was not in the same form he had been on our previous visit and the two kids from California kept calling me “Teach”, touching my shoulder, and actually broke out the Mrs. Robinson fantasy on me (I wanted to punch them, but didn’t because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep drinking if I did). In all fairness, it was really only the one with the long hair that was UBER annoying. So annoying in fact, Liz got up and left to go hang out with the wait staff inside. Martina and her sister Nicola had joined us by that point and were also irritated with Jared. An Irish couple who were sitting next to us also put a bit of a downer on the start of the evening. While Ivan was waiting on them, he was taking the piss out of them about being from Dublin. He must have gone too far and not noticed they were getting angry because the guy had a complete melt down and made it clear he would never come back, blah, blah, blah. Martina, the owner’s wife, of course heard it all. She told Ivan who then pouted a bit, and I just kept sucking down vino (can’t let a little bit of discontent get in my way).
Eventually the California kids left, after I promised to meet them at an Irish pub around the corner (yeah, that didn’t happen) and went inside to see what Liz was up to. And this is where things take an upward swing and start to get a bit hazy for all involved. To my best guess, the kitchen had closed because I know the guys were washing dishes and cleaning the burners etc. It would be at this point that I noticed Chris, the chef, was wearing latex medical-like gloves and I commented on such gloves. He then made a reference towards me and the gloves; and I, simply because I could, shrugged in agreement, turned around, and bent over ever so briefly. Why you ask? Alcohol and I’m pretty much in the gutter 23 of 24 hours a day, I answer (again). The whole place lost it, including Ivan who is resistant to real laughter. And so it went. I then found myself behind the counter shoving the dishwasher out of the way and taking over the task. Chris gave me my own pair of gloves, instructed me on how to spray the anti-bacterial spray on the glasses and the sponge, and then wash away. While one would think it’s not rocket science to wash some dishes, and its not, Chris came over and corrected my spraying of the glasses. I found this totally hilarious since I pulled a glass out of the glass rack and asked who had washed the nasty thing. They all laughed and said it hadn’t been touched in about 6 months. Yeah, and I needed instructions on how to was a damn glass. I was a washing fool; there wasn’t a glass or litre carafe left un-scoured. And, more importantly, I had paved the way for Liz and I to practically take over the joint. We just started pouring our selves wine and wandering around like we owned the place. At some point the Swiss Couple showed up and because I had no more dishes to wash, I started serving drinks too. I’m telling you, next year I will be running the show at Pupo.
With all of the chores completed, Liz, Ivan, Chris, Martina, the Swiss Couple, and I all took our places around the tables outside for more wine and fun. As we were hanging out, a Mariachi band came down the sidewalk (they were there from Andalusia for the music festival) to play and sing; they were really good. Due to high quantities of alcohol and well, just because, we got up and started playing their little percussion eggs with them. I can honestly say that I have never been a dishwasher, waitress, and member of a Mariachi band all in one night. In fact 2 of those three were brand new endeavors all the way around. Ivan brought out rounds of drinks and we all got started again. To my best approximation, the Mariachi band drifted off about 1:30 and I then proceeded to wash up all the newly dirtied glasses so the restaurant could officially be closed. I know, I know, there is no good reason for all the dishwashing; but it was damn funny!
While I wish I could end the post here and say we went to bed at a reasonable hour, I cannot. We went to the Irish bar, thankfully after California kids were gone, to hang with the Mariachi band. That bar closed at 2am, so Chris, Cutie Waiter (can’t remember his name but he’s the guy who gave us our first grappa the previous night), Liz, and I proceeded to a locals bar just outside the Pile Gate. That needed to happen; not so much! We hung out there for an hour or so; Chris and I talked about the war, and we had more unnecessary wine. Finally at 4am we staggered back to our sobe for 5 hours of drunken sleep. Wednesday’s hangover goes down as one of the legendary ones. We had to be out of our place at 10am, but weren’t being picked up for the airport until a little after 1pm. Wandering around Dubrovnik nauseous, tired, headachy, thirsty, and hot is no way to live; and I was almost positive I wouldn’t survive it. What seemed like an eternity later, we boarded our flight back to Rome, where I promptly passed out and slept through takeoff and the entire flight. Even feeling envious of the dead due to my hangover, I would not have traded a single minute of my time in Croatia!
Really? Your teaching me to wash dishes?
So, its spray glasses, then spray sponge, then wash? Ok, I think I can handle that.
seriously? You're correcting me again?
Ivan serving me wine as I wash dishes. If my parents would have taken this approach to dishwashing when I was a kid, I wouldn't have fought it so much.
must spray antibacterial on everything even though they did not have a scrubber to fit inside the carafe. Hmm. . .
serving drinks with a smile
Liz and Ivan
cutie waiter practising saying, naaas-tee
the whole gang: Martina, Liz, Ivan, Swiss Couple, Me
Liz gettin' it on with the Mariachi band as Ivan brings out more drinks.
the day after; now I know what I will look like upon my own death. It ain't pretty!
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