While T@g recovers in the third bay of the Florida garage, we took off in a roundabout way for the northeast corner, or Veneto region of Italy. Having spent most of the 8 days home in Florida after Arctic Adventure cleaning and streaming the Paramount Plus spy series, Lioness, we learned the value of scrambling our travel itineraries so as to confuse foreign adversaries. Sheri left early on a nondescript passenger flight out of Tampa. Eric followed three weeks later on an equally unremarkable Delta jet out of Reagan National. Eventually we rendezvoused with family stationed in the province of Vicenza. It’s not your standard Sheric Adventure, but with T@G holed up in storage, and the North American continent crisscrossed for roundabout eight years, it might be time to consider alternative Adventures.
Home base in northeast Italy does not have wheels, nylon, mesh or fiberglass; instead a traditional suburban home in the comune of Creazzo. Our suite of rooms could hold three T@Gs which is a roundabout way of saying that we hardly know what to do with so musch space and amenities. Without stories of dust bowls and mosquito apocalypses, is there even anything to write about? All good Adventures come down to the constraints that define them. In Italy, our Adventure constraints have morphed Italian.
It is said that to be Italian is to be effortlessly late. Maybe we said that. The real saying is to be Italian is to be effortlessly elegant. Maybe the truth is somewhere in the twixt. We are embracing the “effortlessly” part by trying to slow down and blend in. It’s easy to slow down because we have no car and cannot read the signs. We stroll effortlessly through the town of Creazzo wondering when the businesses will be open. Apparently, not during the day, unless you would like an elegant thimble of espresso or lottery ticket. Those you can get in abundance. As to blending in, time will tell.
Vicenza being in Northern Italy has close cultural ties to its Alpine neighbors, but with more style of course. While effortlessly strolling we are careful not to project Floridian with loud shirts, big smiles and chirpy Hello’s. There is nothing elegant about that. Besides it really freaks the locals out. Unlike life on the road in a T@G somewhere north of north, we are part of a bustling local culture now. How we dress and how we carry ourselves matters. We are trying not to blow our cover, like on Lioness.
Unfortunately, gone is our ability to speak or read the native language. Also gone is our access to truck or car. Gone are our iPhones except as expensive pocket cameras. Gone is our instant access to the internet. In addition to these common “American-abroad” constraints, we must also contend with navigating the Italian roundabout. The Italians have perfected the roundabout such that it is a rare site to find a traffic light. The small ‘burb of Creazzo has more roundabouts than the entire state of New Jersey (not fact checked). With so many roundabouts, and a fierce history of road racing Ferrari’s, the circular intersection provides countless opportunities for Italians to show off. Or, perhaps it is simply because they are late.
Yield to the left while guessing at the intention of the rapidly circling car. Move decisively to the right if any gap exists; hesitate and get rear-ended. Turn signaling is optional, ambiguous and rarely used. Creating multiple lanes is common regardless of the circle size. Side swipes and bumper taps are permitted as long as they do not leave a dent – or not a large dent. Look out for cyclists and scooters who will be circling much faster or much slower while lane splitting. It’s okay to hit a pedestrian if they’re not in a crosswalk, maybe even encouraged to teach them a valuable lesson. The crosswalks are a block from the circle, so plan your walking route carefully.
Leaving it to the professionals, we’ve embraced the Societa Vicentina Transporti, or the SVT buses. Downtown takes 20 minutes on the 1214 line, without frying our nerves in one of four dozen roundabouts along the way. We found discounted fare cards at a corner Tabaccheria, plus cigarettes, scratch-offs and neighbors kibitzing over coffee served in a thimble. The bus lines are the capillaries and the train lines are the arteries of the Italian circulation system. We are effortlessly working hard to master them, elegantly of course. And, like a beating heart, the busses and trains are in sinus rhythm.
At our walk to Stells’s grocery store, a nice bottle of red is 3 euro. The bread is baked fresh daily. We shop small and everyday, practicing our Italian until the exasperated person behind the counter simply starts speaking in English. We are working or not smiling too much and speaking too loud. We’ve come to realize that our clothes are baggy and not stylish. The world around us does not wake up until we typically are home and streaming. We’ve decided to make some changes and blend in. We intend to walk more and stream less. We will see how much of the area we can take in using bus and train. We are going to pay a visit to a barbiera. Who knows, we may even start to dress stylishly, if we can find a good thrift shop. All we need to do is perfect our spy-craft, like on the Lioness.
