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Archive for November, 2011

La Barcaccia, Piazza di Spagna

Rome in late summer can have days so stiflingly and oppressively hot you can think of nothing else but the record high temperatures. Everywhere people are in a fever-induced trance, like melting zombies repeating the same phrases to whomever is within earshot: “Fa caldo!” “E’ caldo come un forno!”. With dead eyes we respond only with a weak, “Si, si”.

I find a small piece of shade near a piazza and sit down on the curb to rest for a minute. The undulating refraction of air rising from the burning pavement creates a mirage. When I stare at one spot long enough, I think I see a figure of the devil forming above a manhole. Hallucination is the first symptom of heat stroke. The soles of my shoes are melting, the mosquitoes that have been gnawing at my ankles have left large red welts on my skin and I’m so dehydrated that my mouth feels filled with cotton balls. Then, not too far in the distance I see it…a drinking fountain! If I weren’t so faint from the heat and humidity I would run toward it like a nomad to an oasis in the Sahara.

Archaeologists believe that the technology for moving water into and around a city originally came from the east, however Romans are unquestionably credited with perfecting the process (i.e., the invention of the aqueduct). This brilliant engineering feat goes unmatched in the ancient world and earned Rome the distinction of having the most available, purest, best-tasting water on the planet. You’ll find Nasone (big nose) fountains scattered throughout the Eternal City – there are about 280 inside its walls alone. On a scorching hot day like this one, all you need to do is simply bend over, stick out your tongue and take a long, cool drink from its glassy stream. L’Acqua di Roma: Liquid of the Gods!

by Toni DeBella

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Passion: Day 17 of the 30 Days of Indie Travel Project

During this entire month of November Bootsnall is inviting bloggers from around the world to participate in 30 Days of Indie Travel : a daily blogging effort to look back on our past travel experiences.  Yes, I know I am posting out of order.  Yesterday the topic was passion: what’s yours?

Benjamin Franklin once wrote, “If passion drives you, let reason hold the reins.” Ben and I agree on this point.  My son Andrew often tells me that I have a propensity to perceive things from a romanticized point of view. Conversely, my friend Suzee insists I have a rational, logical approach to life.  So which is it?

I am keenly aware that gone unchecked, my passion for a life in Italy could consume me and morph into a full-blown addiction.   It’s not that I want to discount my emotions in place of reason, but I believe – like the thin line between love and hate – there is a fine balance that must be struck.

We dreamers don’t like to admit that passion can be a double-edged sword – both blessing and curse.  In order to fulfill a dream, something has to give.  “On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.”- Alexander Pope

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Renovating Italy’s “An Italian Passion – it’s in the blood”

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During this entire month of November Bootsnall is inviting bloggers from around the world to participate in 30 Days of Indie Travel : a daily blogging effort to look back on our past travel experiences.  Trying desperately to keep up with my fellow bloggers (failing miserably), I am reposting this piece from April 2011.  My justification for the short-cut – I am being “Green” – Reduce, recycle, reuse!!!!  Today’s Topic: BUDGET.  Here is TRAVELING ON A BUDGET “ALLA TONI”…

One of my great fortunes in life is having two close friends who work as Flight Attendants for major international airlines.  These two women both collectively and single-handedly enable me to feed my addiction to Italy (or as I sometimes like to refer to it, “my crack”).  The companion fare or “buddy pass”: a way of traveling that is not for the faint of heart.  It requires nerves of steel, the patience of Job, the imagination of Sherlock Holmes, and the ingenuity and resourcefulness of MacGyver.  It also helps to have an innate ability to build alliances and form coalitions with the other “buddies” in line for the few choice “non-revenue” seats.  It’s sort of like “Survivor”, but in an airport.

Companion fares are a fraction of the cost of a regular ticket, but as the old adage goes, “You Get What You Pay For.”  Don’t misunderstand me, I am eternally grateful to my friends for sharing their privileges with me.  However, if you are planning to travel this way you must go in with your eyes wide open and accept its cruel game of “standby roulette”.  I have sat many a time at the gate testing the theory that I can telepathically compel myself onto the airplane by chanting  over and over again “please call my name, please call my name, please call my name” like some twisted mantra, in an effort to will the gate agent, (who’s forehead I have just burned a hole through) to say those seven magic words, “passenger DeBella, please come to the podium”.

Ah, the sweet glory of nabbing a seat in business class from New York to Rome! Warm nuts, champagne, fluffy socks, a blanket made of natural fiber and, the pièce de résistance, a seat that reclines almost flat.  Once you have flown business class, it’s hard to return to coach.  In the back (an airline industry term for “where the losers sit”) I feel like an immigrant crammed into steerage on the Titanic.  Should things go awry, I am convinced any real lifesaving procedures will be afforded to the platinum American Express cardholders first.  But I’m not thinking about that today – today I am one of them.  The cabin crew addresses me as Ms. DeBella.  “Ms. DeBella, what would you like as your entree?” “Ms. DeBella, would you like a warm towel?” “May I get you another pillow, Ms. DeBella?” They don’t call it business class for nothing.

But there’s a dark side to “standby, non-rev” (another airline term for “cheapskates who sponge-off their friends and family”).  I’ve been stranded in Milan for 3 days (my traveling companion was a high-strung, hot-tempered, not-so-easy-going Italian – very stressful!), Rome – 3 days (I finally resorted to tears and someone took pity on me), New York – 5 days (Icelandic volcano eruption – seven million other passengers and me marooned, so I don’t really count that one).  I have slept overnight on a bench in a food court at Frankfurt airport, aligned with 8 other rebuffed “buddies” (we filled an entire B&B in Fumicino, Italy) and naively accepted an offer from Domenico, a complete stranger I sat next to on a flight from Hahn to Campino, to drive me to Orvieto on his way to Viterbo.   He could have been an ax-murderer, but as it turned out, he was a really lovely guy.

The bottom line is I will take the opportunity to travel anyway I can get it.  I love airports – they are happy places for me.  When I am in one I’m either going somewhere far away or returning from a wonderful and unique adventure.  It’s certainly challenging to fly around the world without a structure or a guarantee.  Honestly I sort of enjoy the game – it feels like a test of my character and determination.  Over the years I have managed to overcome a lot of obstacles, so perhaps the hardships make arriving at my destination all the more satisfying.  So, like the title of this blog implies, I will beg, borrow and steal to get where I am going.  Buon Viaggio!

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One Day – Day 9 of 30 Days of Indie Travel Project

During this entire month of November Bootsnall is inviting bloggers from around the world to participate in 30 Days of Indie Travel : a daily blogging effort to look back on our past travel experiences.  I am a bit behind in my efforts but Bootsnall invites everyone to participate in any amount they can. Here is my belated contribution…

If your tour guide totes a long stick with streamers in the colors of the French flag and speaks at you through a microphone transmitted to a speaker in your ear: it’s going to be a run of- the- mill travel day.  On the other hand, if Christophe, a former pharmaceutical executive-turned fine art dealer (who knows Paris like the back of his hand), invites you for a spin around the City of Lights on the back of his motorbike: you’re about to have one of the best travel days of your life!

For the record let me say that weaving in and out of traffic on the streets of Paris is definitely not for the faint of heart. Caught off-guard by the unfathomable opportunity presented to me, I jumped at this once-in-a-lifetime offer before really thinking it through.  Throwing caution to the wind, I chose to worry about the implications of my decision later.  Hey, if things go badly, it would be a chance for me to experience the renowned French healthcare system firsthand.

I gripped the back handles of the bike tightly and attempted to relax as we zigzagged around gridlocked cars and stylishly-dressed pedestrians, ricocheting precariously into the roundabout encircling the Arc de Triomphe (which Christophe claims is the most dangerous place in Paris).  We reached the Champs-Élysées alive and cruised down this legendary boulevard towards a day I will never forget.  October 6, 2011: My best travel day ever!.

Photographs  by Manuela Calvet and Toni DeBella

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