No attempt at a gris goose avec olives order in Italiano
Settling slowly… until this weak ass grey goose martini is gone! And then yes please, I’ll have another. Mrs Jetsetter suggested I mingle amongst the beautiful people on Via Veneto after our early morning stress out. I do believe that together we possess quite a talent… what with our time zones, currency conversions and otherworldly lives. It’s simple: between Italy and the Middle East surely we can collectively remember to book the $23k USD ticket from Australia for next week by midnight California time lest we lose the space due to the ticketing deadline passing! Ticketing deadline where!? Fear not for we were able to pull it off with roughly five minutes to spare. Now it’s time to flee. oh wait, I’m already fled so I guess we’ll have to just go on trust!
I arrived on a sleepy Saturday morning, having been only once before to this fabulous country, but never in summer. It really is true what ‘they’ say about Italy in August! It’s quiet! I remember vividly how chaotic and radical it seemed in October of 2006, on my lesbian honeymoon. Admittedly, I’m rather pleased it is ‘slow’ for my first week living abroad. A soft entry while I try to fit in and get sorted out. Five days now and I’ve finally figured out all the doors required to get into my apartment and have only broken one key lock so far.
I slept well on the plane, had a lovely breakfast at Eden Hotel and then proceeded to sleep about 33 hours after gathering a few supplies: acqua e vino. At 17:30 Sunday when I rose from my slumber, I wandered out to Fontaine de Trevi for a little sustenance. Enter: stalker número uno. After finishing an incredible meal with agreement (not a promise!) to meet the boy out front when his shift ended, I took a little stroll along a familiar road. Enter: stalker número due. At least this one was all grown up and had a motorbike. A motorbike which I so haphazardly rode on without a helmut… or his first name.
Back to business for Monday! Nervous about my transportation logistics for a much anticipated personal invitation to Positano this weekend from a renowned hotel’s owners, I decided to jog to the Tiburtina Stazione and get my tickets in advance. This eternal city is bizarrely quiet. But it is perfetto as all the Italian friends are returning from holidays and my sense of direction and meetings begin to take form. I’ve figured out that wine is just cheap. Period. You can’t buy a €20 bottle in the supermarket. And I don’t see any wine shops! I’m also unable to find grey goose for the apartment, hence my frequenting of five-star hotels like Baglioni and Jumeirah Grand. There are hot men everywhere. No squeaky pants… at least not yet anyway. Motorbikes are the way to travel and I find it kind of nostalgic that it’s always water “with gas” or “no gas”. Frizzante! Sempre frizzante.
Last night I had a lovely catch-up with a really sweet hotelier I’ve enjoyed parties with all over the world. Tomorrow the Rome sites begin and will end with dinner on the terrace above the Spanish Steps. Yes, it is a charmed life… and I am definitely grateful. Just keep in mind I am comfortable (for now) having no address and none of my ‘stuff’… which for me has been invigorating. I venture to guess it’s not something everyone would be comfortable with. Kind of like me with babies. This weekend is Positano, the week after next will be Portofino with day trips to Florence and Saturnia thrown in for good measure. Yet I love how connected I am able to stay to NYC, New Zealand , the Middle East, UK, California and everywhere else in the world my traveling posse happens to be!
Sitting here at the Jumeirah Grand on Via Veneto, why am I surprised this hotel is full of Arabs? One really big young boy is eating a plain hunk of Brie with knife and fork! Random.com and good luck finding clothes to fit you when you’re twenty! He’s already at least 300 pounds. There’s my opinion for the night! I’m no one to talk though as I was so pointedly reminded that I am living in a very conservative catholic country. Trust me Jacs, if I could have taken a day-train to Germany, I would have!
Tomorrow is 250 squats, 250 tricep-dips and I’ve just decided to incorporate abs into the ‘challenge’… all before America wakes up. Bordeaux and Budapest will reap those benefits! I am truly loving being abroad and still have 27 more days to acclimate to the eternal city.
Nice. Enter: stalker número tres at The Grand, and no it was not the fat boy! Massimo wants to take me for a hike on Gianicolo Hill.
Love to all… x and ooo
This was ‘our’ bar in 2006!
