8,9 April, Day 88,89 Big Fat Greek Easter
Tag-a-long-friend
Florence was packed
No bus
Apt with a view
Greek food and dance
The cherry affair
Boboli
Train joyride
7 April, Day 87, Last Snow
I went snowboarding with Paddy and Michael one last time this season. We picked Monte Rosa, (the highest mountain in Italy) in hopes of finding some traces of decent snow. Once we got off the autostrada, the drive turned into a beautiful winding road though increasingly steep valleys. Halfway there we passed the village of Varallo where I could see the Sacre Monte perched up on a mountain that I hoped to visit a few weeks ago. We continued into the mountains without seeing many traces of snow as we drove alongside a river beckoning the kayaker in me to try to navigate its waters. Later we passed signs for a rafting camp verifying that the water could be piloted.
We finally arrived at Monte Rosa to find it packed with people there on Easter holidays. But it’s a huge mountain, and though we did wait on a few lines for the lifts, they weren’t too bad. The snow was heavy and grainy in the blasting sunlight. In spite of using sun block, I got a goggle tan-line on my face. But I guess that’s OK because it says I probably had more fun this weekend than anyone else that doesn’t have one.
Early in the day I really started cruising down the mountain until taking a violent tumble that left long a skid in the snow behind me. I shook myself off as I began to rebuild my confidence taking it a little slower as the snow continued to soften. We had a great time exploring nearly the whole mountain that day going on and off piste. By the afternoon the snow was pretty much slush so I began looking for jumps off the growing moguls and various rocks and lips beyond the confines of the trails.
It started to rain as we got to the bottom after the last run, but everyone was content to end the season on such a beautiful day. I’ve been to the mountains 8 times this winter. I started off struggling to remember how to snowboard and finished being able to hold my own on some of the expert runs. I’m not sure where I’ll be living next winter, but I’ll be sure to take a few days to go snowboarding.
2April, Day 82, Brighter Outlook
After two consecutive days of snowboarding at La Thuile, a fun time Saturday night with Emiliano and some spanish guys, good dinner with Paddy and co Sunday, and meeting a new girl, I’m in much better spirits than I was before the weekend.
We had a sunny powder-day Saturday. It was a 10. Sunday was greyer, but still a good time. I’m really getting the hang of snowboarding and can go down most of the black runs without being fazed much.
I’m looking at the full moon tonight and am wondering if is connected to the way I was bouncing around pretty chipper in the office today,
New Global Warming Evidence
New calculations show that sensitivity of Earth's climate to changes in the greenhouse gas carbon dioxide (CO2) has been consistent for the last 420 million years, according to an article in Nature (March 2007) by geologists at Yale and Wesleyan Universities.
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2007/03/070328155540.htm
24March, Day 73, Snowboarding Andermatt
It’s been another good week. I filed my third patent on Monday, had dinner with the Ambassador Tuesday, played soccer with some colleagues on Wednesday, enjoyed an Aperitivo with the girl from the train and her roommates on Thursday, caught up on sleep Friday to go snowboarding Saturday. I had hoped to go to a party on Saturday night, but I could not find anyone else who wanted to go out, and did not have the motivation to cowboy up and stay out until the 5:30AM train could bring me home. Maybe I just have to bite the bullet and go to a few student parties taking a cab home until I make a friend in Milan who likes to go out and has a couch where I can sleep until the trains start running in the morning. I imagine that I may be able to rent a car for only a little more than the price of a cab, but I don’t think I would be able to find my way home without getting lost unless it came with a navigator.
Rubbing elbows with some of Milan’s aristocracy reminded me that I should to keep pushing (harder) do great things and that I could benefit by surrounding myself with (more) capable people. There remains much to be done, but I take some consolation that the project of this most recent patent may have significant potential. At least one VC seems to agree…
Soccer was fun. I don’t have a whole lot more to say about it except that I’m surprised that this is the first time I’ve been invited to play in Italy.
The aperitivo was good. I enjoyed eating Indian food instead of Italian, and the company of other Americans. Afterwards we walked around the duomo and went for a gelato before saying goodnight.
I had a great day snowboarding in Switzerland with Paddy. There was fresh snow, sunshine, and almost no lines to ride the lifts and cable cars. Andermatt reminds me of Arapahoe basin Colorado in that it’s high and wide open without trees. They even have the avalanche warnings. The top of the mountain (Gemsstock at 2963m) is a crested pinnacle about 10 or 20 yards wide where both sides plunge off into steep slopes. From here the view opened broadly to the Swiss Alps partially blanketed in clouds.
Andermatt has a lot of off-trail skiing where we were able to ride powder about a foot deep. It took me a little getting used-to, but it was awesome once I got it. Snowboarding powder feels a lot like more wakeboarding because more weight shifts to the back foot, and the board can slide laterally though the snow without the edges biting just like a wakeboard can side-slip a little through water. By the afternoon I felt like I was planing the snowboard over the powder. Bombing down a black run seemed like the board only sank a couple inches instead of half way up to my knees like it did when I went slower. I think I may be hooked on snowboarding. Maybe even converted from skiing –Although skiing today would’ve also been phenomenal!
Despite the great times I’ve had in the Alps, I maintain the opinion that the USA has better mountains. I have yet to find a resort that can beat the views you find at lake Tahoe or the slopes of Colorado. Another observation: of the 4 mountains I’ve been to in the Alps, I have yet to find a single run peppered with moguls. I’m not real big on skiing the bumps, but I can appreciate the variety and added challenge they bring. Maybe they’ve been packing the snow more than usual to try to conserve it since it has been a very warm year. I even saw an exhibit on a glacier conservation project here. For the past few warm summers they’ve been covering their little glacier with a huge sheet to shade it from the sun to keep it from melting so fast. I think it’s a good idea when you look at the accelerated melting of our glaciers over the past few years but we need to make sure to focus efforts on “curing the disease in addition to treating the symptoms.”
17March, Day 66, Snowboarding Under the Matterhorn
I went to an Erasmus party with Ricardo and 2 of his roommates in a club called My Bali. I was pleased by the venue, but as the night went on the crowd seemed to get less and less friendly. I tried meeting a few new people, but didn’t really get far. It seems like a lot of the local Italian guys like to frequent these events to try to pick up chicks. Too much male presence can spoil just about any party, and this was no exception. I’d seen enough by 2, but had to wait about ninety minutes before we could convince one of the other guys that it was time to go. I woke up three hours later to inhale breakfast and then wait an hour for Mateo to pick us up to go to the mountains.
I dozed for a while in the car and woke to find us driving through a classic alpine valley dotted with quaint villages. The jagged peaks of the Alps reached skyward in the distance. We reached Cervinia and suited up in our snow gear although it was a sunny 65 degrees at the base. We took the first lift up 1000 or more meters to the base of the skiing area from which we could see small waterfalls of snowmelt pouring over the rocks below. Another lift brought us to some icy trails where the slush from yesterday afternoon had frozen into a slab during the night. Another lift, and then tow rope, and then cable car brought us to the peak of the Italian alps. From here we could look across the cirque to view at the Matterhorn, half hidden by a cloud. Patches of blue ice left from the glaciers of the last ice age remained tucked in some corners where they were protected from sunlight. And we could look down the other side of the mountain to Switzerland and Zermatt --only a few minutes away.
Before long it was time to head back to the bottom and drive home. I had a great time snowboarding, despite a slow start and little sleep the night before. I’m finally starting to get the feel of it. I’m really hoping we get some snow this week because the forecast says it will cool off and I’m hoping to go again next weekend. If not, I’m thinking about going to Norway for Easter weekend to get a few more days riding the snow.
I’ve gotta get to be because I’m still coughing since the day I returned from Tuscany. Tomorrow I’m joining the US Ambassador for dinner, so I’d like to be sharp!
Toscana Part 2: Firenze
Toscana Part 2: Firenze
I’ve wanted to finish the entry for such a long time that I don’t know if I’ll get around to writing it, or if it even pays to publish it this late. I’ll start with the outline, and maybe fill in some material if I get around to it.
Arrival. I feel superior because familiarity
Dumb-sounding Texans + Italian guys
Firenze has a supersexual vibe
Like college spring break
Model Show
Eucre American girls
The onion story and Daniela’s description of the game
(http://www.theonion.com/content/node/34198)
Rebecca and company
Party with Spaniards
Box wine and coke
The 4-5 cuties
Lots of talk but still striking out
Chianti, Greve
Wine tasting, wine opener
Hill Fiasole
Are Fiorentinos/Toscans more interesting than Milanese? Or my bias based on this experience?
Approach artist
(Farewell) dinner
Missing having close Friends/Companionship
14 March, Day 63 Treasure in Toscana
I just came back to Monza after a good week of work with one of our partners outside of Pisa. I took advantage of the weekend in Tuscany to visit some new and older friends in Florence, and explore the hills of Chianti. After eating out 6 nights in a row, I decided to continue the streak, but change the cuisine. I had a terrific dining experience in a Japanese restaurant about 15 minutes from my apartment. I’m not sure what was more noteworthy: the fresh tuna and salmon sushi, or the beautiful Japanese waitresses. There seems to be a definite paucity of both around here.
Let’s go back to the start of the trip one week ago.
I slowed my brisk walk to the train check out a group of six girls loitering on Platform #12 in Milano Centrale. To my amazement, they were speaking English, and it looked like we might be riding the same train. However, my reservation was on the 10AM train to Firenze, in spite of the fact that I made it to the station just in time to catch the 9AM. The foibles of the ticket purchasing process blocked my attempts at from buying a ticket for the 9AM at 8:39. In any case, I was ready to board this train so I asked one of the conductors if there were seats available, and if there was a penalty riding with my ticket. He said it would be 8 euros, and I could probably find a seat around the middle of the train in the 6th or 7th carriage. I decided to go to the 10th carriage and sit in the seat assigned to me there on the 10AM train hoping to avoid the fine.
Coincidentally, the American girls were bantering together a few rows behind me! I settled into (my) seat and counted the minutes before the train would leave. But then a small blond girl approached me and stuttered, “Pa-paarli ingeles?” I beamed, “As a matter of fact, I do!” I was hoping this might turn into a more pleasant 3 hours than I’d planned on! So I made a new friend --a girl from New Hampshire studying architecture in Milan. Soon the rightful ticket owner arrived and ousted me from (my) seat, but I lingered in the aisle talking for nearly an hour before the conversation began to taper off and I excused myself to take a nap in an empty seat. The evidence is mounting up that I’d have quite a different (social) experience if I were living closer to the center of Milan. I regret not devoting more diligence to my apartment search, but living a handful of kilometers away from the action should not be enough to exclude me from the games if I try a little harder. –I just have to make a few more connections.
I woke up about a half hour before our scheduled arrival. The American girls were still talking and giggling in the background. They seemed like the loudest ones on the train. I eavesdropped on their conversation from (my)-(new) seat, but soon became disinterested in their nonsensical chatter about a guinea pig that had passed away during their younger years. I opened my new book about a seduction artist that I started reading about a week ago. I was finding the content more interesting than my last book, and I was hoping to make some good progress this week.
We arrived in Firenze, and I said goodbye to Ms. New Hampshire without ever asking her name. I thought it was a little weird to part so anonymously after talking about an hour, but I didn’t want to seem like I was prying.
Soon I arrived in our partner’s office outside of Pisa and worked though the afternoon on some coriolis force calculations for a mechanism I’m designing. I was happy to put them aside when it was finally time to call it a day. I strolled Pontedera looking to select a restaurant for dinner. I eventually selected a seafood joint and had a decent pasta dish and some fried fish that included a few bits of calamari that may be the best I’ve ever had.
I began to my stroll back to the hotel, but took a detour into a bar that looked way too happening to pass up. Inside was a model-shoot. I asked a couple of guys what this was all about, and they explained that this was for the spring collection of a locally made brand of jeans. The place was swarming with people. I felt consciously out of place in my white tee shirt in this fashionable environment. To my disappointment, there was an aperitivo large enough that I could have made a dinner out of it if I hadn’t already eaten. So I ordered a drink and decided to observe the proceedings. The fashion show ended, but the party didn’t seem to miss a beat.
At some point I found myself standing close to one of the models. She was a pretty girl, about my height, with long dark hair, and dark eye makeup that was strange bordering on artistic. The eye makeup made for an easy opener as she laughed that she doesn’t always go around like this. I was surprised to find her to be rather down to earth, and would’ve liked to get to know her a little better, but she excused herself and left with some other guys. Two men standing next to me approached in a way that might’ve raised my gaydar, but they were obviously more interested in learning more about the girl I had just finished talking to than they were interested in me. A bit later I found myself talking to another girl, and I eventually closed the night by collecting her phone number. I felt like quite the player when she typed her name into my phone and it said that name already exists!
3,4 March, Day 52,53 A Weekend in Pigra
I finally got to post some pics in previous posts!
I had a nice dinner with the neighbors on Friday night, but couldn’t really find much to do afterwards so sawed at the violin for a while and went to bed early feeling a little defeated yet having fought nothing.
I woke up and went jogging in the morning mist without the sweatshirt (non-rocky-style) because it was like 55 or 60. I tried to push the pace a little, and probably ran a ¼ mile more than last week. I enjoyed listening to 2 chickens and a rooster one in someone’s back yard, but I’m beginning to abhor the trash and graffiti accumulating on the shoulders of the path. I really think there’s more than enough trash in the city to sustain the homeless population with reliable work.
I showered, dressed, and swept the apartment before being picked up by Paddy and Maddy to meet Chiara and the others to go to her parent’s vacation house in the mountains above lake Como. We stopped in a supermarket to buy some food for the weekend where I saw the biggest deli-meat in my life. This mortadela was a hulking 2 feet in diameter, and almost double that in length. I wouldn’t be surprised if it weighed in excess of 50 pounds!
We continued on to the lake on the highway snaking though tunnels opening to peek-a-boo views of the shores. At Argegno we left the highway we began to weave our way up the mountain on roads barely wide enough for one car, but somehow accommodating 2-way traffic. We passed through some villages where the houses came up to the road, sometimes forming archways over the cobblestones. We finally reached Pigra (which translates as slacker) around 1. The house was high on the mountain with two stories of porches opening to awesome views overlooking the deep water and snowcapped mountains beyond the other shore. We unpacked the food and basked in the sunshine enjoying the view while lunch was being cooked.
One of the pine scrubs in the garden smelled like California. I miss that smell (and the fresh air). I practically lived outdoors at Stanford, or at least near an open window. There doesn’t seem to be much fresh air or pine trees around Milan…
Lunch was served. First was a generous assortment of dense cheeses, prosciuto, salami, and bread. Then we had a plate of spaghetti with tomato and little bits of fish, followed by salad, coffee, and desert. I was having some trouble keeping up with the conversation but caught some bits about a shepherd who had a refuge up in the mountains near us and sells homemade cheeses. When the food inspectors came to monitor his operation, he repelled them by throwing rocks from the top of the mountain.
After lunch we bundled up to go exploring the nearby mountains. I regretted only bringing my fleece, but Chiara’s brother, Pietro had a traditional wood-cutter shirt for me to wear. We piled into the 4x4 and drove a narrow curvy military road to several lookouts over the lake. We crossed several snowfields before reaching the end of the road. Now I understood! The shepherd lived in an old military outpost beyond the next ridge that the Italians used to maintain their sovereignty over the lake during WWII. We began picking our way along a trail scratched into the side of the mountain to reach this final view of the lake. We shivered as the wind whipped around us. Even the woodcutter’s shirt wasn’t keeping its half of the bargain but at least I looked like I belonged on the trail as we crossed patches snow and mud. The sun was setting by the time we finally reached the outpost. The shepherd was gone for the winter, but he left a spectacular view of Bellagio far below, and a full moon rising above the mountains on the opposite shore. I don’t think I’ve ever regretted forgetting my mini tripod more. This was an incredible shot, but all I could take back were memories and blurry underexposed photos.
After reading for a while by the fire that night, we played Pictionary. I needed translations for most of the Italian words, and had to do most of my guessing in English, but it was a lot of fun. –Maybe even more fun than usual because this added a new element to the game. I think Chiara and I came in second place against two other teams. Not bad for a first time in Italian! I would recommend this to any bilingual group interested in a fun way to practice language.
I stood out on the porch for a while gazing up at the lunar eclipse reflecting in the lake surrounded by dark silhouettes of the mountains against the night sky. I used the tripod to snap a few photos here, but I mostly enjoyed the silent clear air. I could almost hear someone singing cowboy songs under the same moon in front of a fire far away on another continent.
The next day we had a breakfast of hardboiled eggs, coffee with milk, salami, cheese, and bread on the porch. The plan was to take the funicolare down to the lake and then take a ferry to Bellagio for lunch. Unfortunately we missed the ferry, but we still had a good lunch. I ordered fish from the lake. This consisted of a fried fillet, a half dozen whole minnows fried to a crisp, and a larger (5 inches) fish that might’ve been baked. I thought the friend minnows most intimidating, but actually the most enjoyable once I got into them. I was wondering how in the world I was going to extract a nibble of flesh from the head and bone until Patty ate one whole. You crunch up the head and everything. It’s really not bad at all.
Later we explored the grounds of an abandoned mansion before packing up and going back to Milan. It was a great weekend.
25Feb, Day 46, Coincidence?
It’s a gloomy rainy Sunday and I’ve been moping around the apartment all afternoon. I hoped to find someone to go jogging with, but that’s not going to happen today. I spent an hour or more cleaning and then took out the violin for a while. I struggled to think of an interesting song to play, and put it back in the case after just a half hour to catch up on a few journal entries to the beat of Gli Anni.
I received an unexpected package Friday evening. I tore though the padded cardboard to find a seasoned-looking book. It contained a mysterious message printed on the front cover instructing the recipient of this gift to return it to the person they’d received it from if they’d already read it, or to read it in less than 12 days and pass it on to the person they think would benefit most from its message. I was amazed. I don’t believe coincidences happen by chance, and the timing is ripe for this story to return to me. I first read this story in Spanish about 3 years ago. Then I signed the inner cover and gave it to my friend Jimmy as a going away present before I moved to California. Coincidentally, I think he had already read it in its original language: Portuguese, but he was happy to accept it and read it again in his native language, just as I happily accepted this version in English. I’ve been experiencing a wonderful deja vu rereading the story though different sounding words. This is the first book that I have read in 2 languages. I think the Spanish version seemed more mystifying and viscerally poetic – in part because I could not understand every word, whereas the English translation comes across lucid and much more palpable. I blazed though it, and finished the book in less than 5 hours spread over the weekend. Now I’m faced with the task of deciding who to pass it on to.
I ate an apple with peanut butter and cowboyed up to go for a jog in the rain. The city is strangely quiet because there is a moratorium on driving in northern Italy this weekend. Every winter they declare a few days of traffic block for all vehicles that burn gasoline or diesel fuel to try to reduce the pollution around the city. I think this is the first time they’ve extended the ban though the rest of the region. I support this movement and believe these actions are an important step towards a sustainable carbon economy. Bravo Italia!
20 Feb, Day 41, The Fashion Show
I would like to begin this entry with a shout-out to my friend Adam Gilbert for writing and performing tonight’s musical selection that I’ll hear while I write this entry. Readers located in the NY/NJ area should think about seeing his band perform live!
I caught a ride to Milano with one of my coworkers that live in the city. I arrived in the center before 7PM (earlier than I usually get home!), so had nearly an hour to kill before meeting Sally to go for a drink, and then go to the show. I took the metro to Garibaldi and began to stroll the neighborhoods north of the station in an area they call Isola. I’ve concluded that if I were to move to the center, the best location would be near Garibalidi because then I could get to work on a train to Arcore and then bus it to Vimercate, or take the metro to the end of the line, and bus to Vimercate from Colognio. I think in either case I’d be looking at a slightly longer commute, but I’m beginning to think I’d rather live closer to the center of the city. Driving is a third option, but I don’t think it’s worth the expense. Unfortunately, I did not find much in the way of apartments up for rent. But these things are seldom advertised publicly because the real estate agents have set up an extensive monopoly allowing them to collect exorbitant commissions on new leases because it is nearly impossible to find a place without going though them.
In any case, I was excited to meet Sally around 8 to head down to the show. I’d first contacted her nearly a year ago when I was trying to hustle for a job in Italy. I met her in person about a month ago. It was great to share some experiences with another person who sees Italian life and culture filtered by an American lens much as I do. This creates opportunities to discus a lot of comical idiosyncrasies unique to this region that deserve thorough jocular consideration.
We met up near the Duomo and headed to a café near the bar. I enjoyed the conversation that ensued, though didn’t feel like I had a lot of new news to share since our last aperitivo. I still don’t have closure on a new job contract, still interested in living closer to the center of Milano, etc.
Soon it was time to go to the show venue.
16 Feb, Day 37, Beggar’s largesse
I see the same guy begging for money in the same spot several days a week as I walk to the bus stop. I don’t know what he does on his days off because I don’t usually see him there on the weekend. I guess even bums deserve a break. Maybe he distributes his begging among several locations to balance his collections about the city. This brings up a bit of a moral dilemma for me. In one case I feel somewhat guilty for ignoring him day after day, but I really want to do is tell him I’ll give him 10 bucks if he’ll pick up all the trash within 100 yards of my apartment. (I think he could be more efficient than the state of the art roomba.)
The people around here don’t seem to hesitate to toss their filth and cigarette butts on the ground, so I imagine this guy could get a steady stream of work while making more money than begging, and he could help to resolve a problem instead of contributing to it. Although this approach may seem more like treating the symptoms than the problem, I’m optimistic that the greater populace might become more attentive to their trail of trash if they saw poor people that seemed to care more about the city than the average citizen. This may be the catalyst to tip the society into thinking (and acting) more interdependently instead of typical myopia.
Just imagine if all the beggars became the keepers and shepherds of the city: entrusted to keep things clean, and make sure they stay clean. I see model similar to the adopt-a-highway program-- except more personal. They could expand to cleaning spray paint and other eyesores around after the trash is collected. Then later we might even start thinking about our air and water… I can imagine a whole new economy being created where before people were just standing around asking for money. Now how do I initiate this social movement with a contagious mechanism to reach global proportions? This could be the start of my work towards a Nobel prize…!
I paraded up to the bus stop ready to carry on with the day, and look for a way to implement my employment strategy for the other beggars of the city. Along the way I counted no less than 22 expectorations on the sidewalk between my apartment and the bus stop. These slobs don’t even bother to spit out of the walking path.
However, I encountered a different sort of creature loitering around the bus stop for no apparent reason. Here was a small horde of high school students. (Have you ever wondered how we have high school, but not low school?)
I imagine that they couldn’t be up to much good if they were out of school on a Friday morning, but I guess one never knows these days. I guess they’re entitled to have their own social agenda as well. -Probably something that involves defacing public property, or at least leaving more trash at the scene than when they arrived.
One of the highschoolers had a champion mullet. It was truly something to marvel at, even more outrageous than you can find in the dukes of hazard, or anything else I’ve ever seen showcasing the most redneck sectors of American culture. The white trash/pimpstar with oversized aviator glasses and a ridiculous mullet seems to be in vogue around here for mysterious reasons though I suspect it might be some sort of act of rebellion.
I tried to rally to go out on Friday night in Milan in hopes to see (and meet) some of the models here for the Spring fashion shows. I’d planned to meet my friend Emiliano earlier that night, but it was getting late and the place they were meeting would have been hard for me to get to. I called a bunch of people with out finding anyone else interested in going. Bummer! Rather than bust out the violin like last Friday I decided to take a stroll around Monza. First stop was the Vanity Café. It was mostly empty, but despite the warm welcome I got from the waitresses, they didn’t seem interested in socializing much. (Typical.)
I ordered a mojito to stir while I hanging out see if things would pick up. Every mojito I’ve ordered in Italy has been sub-par until tonight. My usual complaint is that the sugar isn’t dissolved and there’s not the right balance of lime. Except tonight wasn’t really made like a Cuban-mojito that I’ve learned to drink in Florida, or a Mexican-mojito that was big in California, but rather some new Italian interpretation on the theme of mint, lime, rum, and sugar. Only they added a healthy dose of angostura bitters and a shot of amaretto. The angostura stirred up halcyon memories of canoeing at Club Bianco, and I thought the amaretto added a nice touch as well.
Feeling bored, I left and strolled down to the Irish pub where I had a good time 2 weeks ago. Tonight was karaoke night! I ducked thought the doors to find a couple of (cute) Italians trying to sing American classics along with other Italian songs. This music was less nostalgic and more stimulating than the angostura, and I soon found myself tapping my foot along with the show. However it was hard to really get involved because I hardly knew any of the songs. I contemplated asking to sing but overwhelming evidence from the left-brain kept me planted securely in my chair. I think this place has some potential to be a great time with the right mix of people.
I went home by midnight so I could get up early to go snowboarding with my new American friend, Miguel.
15 Feb, Day 36 Working in Genova
I went to one of the offices in Genova to help design a couple of test platforms. Despite spending nearly 4 hours in the car (and arriving home at 9:30) I feel like it was a very productive afternoon. I’d like to think I made some valuable contributions. -And I actually felt like a design consultant! Unfortunately this late return forced me to cancel my first chance to play soccer in Italy. Maybe I can play next Thursday if I’m not in Pisa.
(Last Sunday continued) We arrived at the mountain to find snow depth of zero millimeters at the base, but some people that were leaving said that it was OK up higher. We got dressed, bought half day lift tickets, and wedged ourselves into the giant cable car to hoist us up to the first level. We divided up 3 sandwiches 8 ways to scarf down for a lunch/snack while the cable car ascended a nearly vertical wall to get to the actual base of the skiing area. The obscured windows made photographing the view irrelevant. (Maybe to keep people from freaking out by the height.) The doors opened, and we rambled out onto a grated platform that you could peer though to the village thousands of feet below. This was a view that could probably give a construction worker butterflies in their stomach.
I had considered getting a snowboard today because I had a good time with it last weekend and I thought I understood that it was only the second day for some people in our group. But upon seeing that 6 out of 8 people had their own gear, and some were toting skis that were longer than they were tall, (usually a sign that they know what they’re doing), I decided to rent skis so I wouldn’t be the one holding up the group. It was a good thing because 2 of the girls were faster than me, and everyone did really well! I may not be a natural skier, but I consider myself to be pretty fast for a guy from Florida… We had a blast flying down the mountain all afternoon.
Giuliana invited me into her house to have a drink before dropping me off home after we said goodbye to the others. I was a little surprised to meet her parents there, and I had some strong flashbacks to high school, but I guess this is the Italian way and I shouldn’t be taken aback by it. I felt like we parted on a positive note and I hope to see her again. She nearly lives within walking distance so maybe we’ll go for a jog in the park or something…
Our office buildings outside of Milan
14 Feb, Day 35 Santo Valentino
I always feel valentine’s day is a good day for meeting people because the couple’s (who are generally less interested in meeting people) are all off doing their own thing, and the rest of us are left over. I’ve been making small talk with one of the girls at the bus stop some evenings, and I felt that we might of raised the conversation closer to a meaningful level tonight, but her bus came and I was left with Stephen Covey again. I’ve about 170 pages to go. I was briefly interrupted by the crash between a bicycle and pedestrian in the cross walk, but they seemed to brush it off OK but surprised that they could not occupy the same space at the same time.
Later tonight I’ll go for dinner with Ricardo and some other friends. Outcome is yet to be seen…
Where was I? Oh, the passegiata Saturday…
By now the police were out in force, and dozens of officers were stationed around the city. With so much security I didn’t know if I should feel safe or in danger, but the usual parade of weekend window-shoppers continued unhindered, so I figured it was probably not a big deal. After visiting a few stores to no avail I spied a small cafetiera in the display of a boutique.
Further inspection revealed that it was a 1-shot model made of stainless steel except for a brass pin in the hinge and plastic handle. Although it doesn’t really have the form to speak to the message I was looking for, I decided to buy it because I probably won’t see a single shot made of SS for a while.
I had planned on seeing a movie that night, but my viewing schedule didn’t seem to line up with their showing schedule, so I went to bed somewhat early for lack of another activity for the evening.
I got up Sunday and had a stout breakfast before heading downstairs to meet Giuliana and the others to go to skiing at Chiesa Valmalenco. I rode in a tiny little car with Giovanni and Guiliana while Anna and Bruno followed in another car. We picked up Marta, Rubin, and another girl (I think Vera) along the way. I was surprised to find that the rest of the group was mathematical engineers at Milano Politecnico, but they seem like a fun bunch to be mathematicians!
12 Feb, Day 33 Bread and Grappa
(50 pages, 28878 words!) –Tonight I’m trying to type with the timing of the piano serenades that I’m listening to, so expect a few unnoticed typos.
I woke around noon on Saturday and had to defer my plans to visit Genova and Portofino for a day that I could get an earlier start. Instead I would spend the some time taking care of a couple things around the house before going for a jog in the park.
Monza has a park large enough that I have yet to reach the far side on any one of my jogging or walking trips. Maybe one day I’ll rent a bike to reach the outskirts. I was surprised to see several police cars positioning themselves in the center of the town square as I passed through on the way to the park. The officers were already congregating around as though there was going to be some sort of demonstration. These guys were garbed in their riot gear with helmets and plastic shields. I found it reminiscent of political demonstrations I’ve seen in third world sectors of South America. (Just another perk of living out here on the frontier…) I jogged past the drug-dealing Moroccans near the entrance of the park, and entered the garden to the south of the Villa Reale. It’s too bad the villa seems to be falling in to disrepair because they could make it into something like a smaller version of the palace of Versailles, France, if they poured some money into it. I guess they’ve better things to spend their cash on: like refurbishing the train station or making billboards to put on the duomo.
I passed a few other people out for a stroll before stopping at the bocce courts to watch the old-timers and stretch a cramping leg. There were about twice as many of these seniors as last week, wrangling over the orbs like idiot savants capable of seeing nuances indistinguishable to my studious eyes. Maybe one day they’ll teach me their waning Italian pastime.
I showered, and then puttered around the house feeling quite proud to have removed most of the dust from the floor and some of the stains from the sink and tub. But the phone interrupted the closure of my cleaning. A girl with a lyrical voice introduced herself as Giuliana, a friend of Emiliano, (an Italian I met at Stanford while he was working as a visiting scholar.) What a strike of luck! Emiliano offered me her number because she’d planned to go skiing this weekend, but I thought calling more than twice would’ve been excessive in spite of failing to get her on the line either try. So we made plans to leave the following morning. I was ecstatic to be going back to the Alps tomorrow-- particularly after Friday night’s letdown and a generally vanilla Saturday.
Following a session of post-run stretching, I prepared to stroll the town to try to loosen up the ailing leg, buy some muscle relaxant, and find a proper cafetiera (coffee pot), and maybe a corkscrew. I’m looking for rather particular pieces of each. I’ve developed the habit of making a shot of coffee each morning, but neither of the two pots that came with my apartment is really suitable. The smaller one makes 2-3 shots and is made of aluminum, the larger one is made of stainless steel, but makes 4-5 shots. I can’t stand the aluminum, and the steel pot is too big. I think I know what I’m seeking to round out my morning experience… It would be a 1-shot pot made of something akin to buffed 316Stainless. I’m thinking of a VBR that’s sleek, efficient, urbane, but with a flare of brio. The corkscrew is a different story as it doesn’t come out daily, but should be a waiter-style design -something utilitarian, without compromising quality, made with a certain perennial pride and craftsmanship. I was thinking of brushed titanium with a finished wooden inlay on the handle held down by 3 or 4 studs.
Well sorry to end on this discussion on my present desires for coffee pots and corkscrews, but I’ll try to get to the title of this entry and the other adventures of the weekend later this week.
Signing off…
9 Feb, Day 30 A Week in Review
Nothing too exciting to write home about, but I feel due for an entry.
This week was marked by an extraordinarily mundane workweek in contrast to some more interesting extracurricular activities.
I jogged 14 minutes towards Milan to a new gym that I’ve heard is one of the best around. And it was a big place by Italian standards, but divisions between different areas seems to corral all the boys into the weight room, and the girls hide in other parts, giving it an atmosphere of segregation. It’s not an ideal setup. I think my favorite part of the evening was jogging down there with my hooded sweatshirt pretending to be Rocky.
Tuesday was my usual aperitivo and Italian lesson with Rosella. I think once I get the signature on a new contract to stay a few more months I’ll put in a little time studying again because I could use a review some of the lesser-used tenses. I was bummed out that the girl I met after class last week didn’t show up.
Wednesday was dinner with the neighbors, but my bus home was 50 minutes late and I was afraid they’d eat without me. But they waited and seemed in no particular hurry. We had spaghetti with pomodoro, and miniature boiled ribs with potatoes and peas. Anna made a type of pastry consisting of thin fried sheets of dough covered in powdered sugar called chiacchierare. After dinner I went out with the Sicilians for Fabrizio’s birthday. I arrived at Porta Genova 15 minutes after we planned to meet, and ended up waiting another 20 before they arrived. Then it was on to meet up with a few of their girls at Puerta Allegra, a bar a few blocks away. They’ve done a good job replicating the feel of a salsa bar in Miami, but there’s still a hint of Italian influence. I ogled at some of the dancers taking particular notice of a super-hot girl in a red dress. I think she caught me staring but didn’t seem to mind.
I went back to the table and sat with the others. I explained the definition of “wedgie” when a noteworthy example presented itself in the parade of people circulating the bar.
Riccardo and I decided to resume our inspection of the dance floor near the close of the night. He asked me what I was thinking as we listened to the bachata. I was going to tell him about dancing bachata with Alfonso’s Columbian friends at UM, but was interrupted when the girl in red came up to me, took my hands, and asked me to dance. Feeling quite embarrassed, I looked at her and stuttered, “that I shouldn’t.” Instead of letting go, she began to pull harder and asked, “Why?” I guess this girl wasn’t used to getting turned down. I thought the proper response to her question would’ve been, “perché sei troppa bella...” But I was losing traction and stuttered something about not being much of a dancer instead. Despite my better intentions, my efforts to resist began to collapse and I was coerced onto the dance floor for a lesson. 1-2-3-4. 1-2-3-4. Bachata seems simpler than salsa though I probably wasn’t doing very well concentrating on her instructions over the volume of music compounded by certain visual distractions. I suppose this completed my night, and before I knew it, it was time to pile into the car with the boys and head back.
I should’ve been back in the office after a few winks of sleep, but it was one of those mornings then I got to the bus stop to see the bus speeding away leaving a greasy fart of diesel exhaust for anyone unfortunate enough to be left behind it. The next bus came after I finished 41 more pages of Stephen Covey.
I had a refreshing Friday morning and counted off the last minutes of the afternoon before heading home. After a good time on Wednesday, I was looking forward to going out with the Sicilians again. I ended up made tentative plans to visit Leonardo and Fernanda on Saturday if I wasn’t up too late to get out. They’re my Brazilian friends from the language school, -now living in Genova. I went to my favorite pizza place in Monza to celebrate the start of the weekend. They have the same great pizzas, but a new menu that has added about 2 euros onto everything. I’m not thrilled spending 9 or 10 euros on a pizza, and will have to look for a new place. My phone buzzed with a surprising message during dinner. Mari, one of the first Italian teachers that I spoke with in Monza wanted to get in touch. I think it’s odd that a language teacher –typically a vocal/auditory person, sends a text message saying an email bounced, but I guess not everyone fits the cookie cutter… I tried calling back twice without getting her before letting it drop. She has a history of flaking out anyway. If there’s really something to say, she should try calling. I went home and squealed the violin for a while, while I waited on the Sicilians to organize themselves to go out. I think I got it to sound good for a few seconds. Since I’ve been playing without music it can be hard to guess the notes to songs I’ve never played before.
The Sicilians flailed- confessing to be cleaning the house tonight. Cleaning an your apartment on a Friday night is about as lame as a blind dog that’s missing its hind legs.
3 Feb, Day 24/Weekend#4, Winter Sports
This has been a pretty good week and a great weekend.
The neighbors just stopped by to give me some marmalade because we haven’t seen each other in a while. I think we’ll meet up for dinner Wednesday. I still can’t get over how nice they are!
Yesterday I went snowboarding with Paddy, Maddy, Michael, and Nico. Nick was in my Italian class at Stanford, and he’s now studying in Firenze and came up for the day. It sounds like a lot of fun down though we had a good time up here too. But speaking English together for part of the day, I began to realize that I’ve started to slip below my former eloquence (which was not particularly well developed to begin with ;-)
We left Milan in the morning mist (which sometimes doesn’t clear for the entire day), but it began to clear by the time we reached Lecco, and we were looking at a bright blue sky as we ascended into the mountains. The base was pretty dry, but we rumbled up long tunnel in a funiculare to the bottom of the ski area where there was some snow. The snow on the mountain was pretty good, but a little bit icy in some spots. I was very pleased with my snowboarding since the last time I can remember doing it was during high school 6 or 7 years ago. (Wow! Was high school really that long ago…?) I’m still hurting in various places today, but it’s nothing too serious, and completely worth it. If I go a couple more days this year, I should start to get good enough to keep up with mom and dad on skis… Although the snowboard is still fun, I feel in many ways it is somewhat inferior to skis in that it takes more time to buckle up before and after the lift, there is no easy way to move on flat terrain, and you have a bit of a blindspot making heel-side turns. Maybe as I get better I’ll feel those limitations are less of a factor.
We went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. I ordered a burrito, though I wouldn’t say that I actually got one for dinner. It was good though. Later I showed Nico some of the limited nightlife in Monza. We went to a bar I’ve never been to after being unimpressed with the scene downstairs, and being turned away from my second choice because we didn’t have a reservation. What kind of bar requires a reservation??? –Only in Italy… But I guess it was for the best, because this place was probably more fun than I’ve ever had at the other two places.
I watched the Sicilian soccer derby (Palermo vs Catania) Friday night with Fabrizio and some of his friends. I couldn’t believe the fans threw teargas onto the field to stop the game on 2 occasions. A police officer was killed in the riots after the game later that night. I would consider myself to be a passionate fan of the Miami Hurricanes, but I couldn’t imagine rioting because we lost a game. (Although I’ve heard that the dung eating trash of Ohio State trashes their city after some games.) We went for some drinks in a chic lounge toasting to the victors afterwards, and I didn’t end up getting much sleep before getting up early to get on the road to the mountains.
Accent reinitiated talks of a new contract for me at work on Thursday. It looks like I may begin working on some more interesting facets of the project, and even a bit of design engineering in the future. But there’s still a lot of inertia working against my efforts at “design thinking.”
I went for an aperitivo with Emiliano on Wednesday evening. He’s an Italian that I met at Stanford while he was doing some research in the biodesign department. Now he’s back in Milan working on a doctorate. It was great to share some old stories, and I hope we can hang out a bit more.
My Italian lessons started up again for 2007 on Tuesday evening. I enjoyed the practice, and company. -I may have even found an Italian girl that would like to learn a little English.
Some pictures of Brescia
Jan 27, Day 17, Attention x5 (continued)
This is my third night writing this entry. Just a side note: I’m drinking an Egyptian licorice tea that has a strange fragrance redolent of some whacked stuff that you can find in the mountains of South America. I’ll put on some Carlos Vives to complete the reverie.
So the way my luck was going today, I didn’t really take anything on my part before we were deep in a conversation as the funicolare crept up the mountain. (4) About half way up the mountain traces of show began to appear in the forest below while I could look across the lake for a spectacular view of the islands and snowy peaks vaulting skyward on the other side. I was reminded of skiing at Lake Tahoe, but the presence of this lake seems more intimate. I think it’s closer and smaller, or at least narrower. It’s unfortunate that the windows of the cable car make it hard to take a good picture and the frenchies hogging the best angle didn’t help the situation.
We clambered out at the top to find several inches of snow on the ground. With no sunglasses the light was dazzlingly bright, but I wasn’t going to let that deter me from exploring the peak. My new friend (Valentina) suggested I walk with her to the other side of the mountain for a different view where they have skiing. We chatted on the path, and I was impressed that she told me she does a lot of things on her own and is able to enjoy herself without the company of others. I could easily relate to this because sometimes my time here seems like an extended experiment in social isolation and I still find I struggle with it sometimes. I suspect some of the psychologists in my reader base might claim that this is part of human nature. --Maybe I can find a loophole to fee myself of Maslow’s postulation.
We crossed several trails that people were happily sliding down the fresh snow before reaching the lodge area and parking lot on the other side. The view of the craggy Swiss Alps a few dozen miles away couldn’t be anything less than awesome. Above and below a handful of cable ski lifts servicing a surprising number of runs. She asked for my number and suggested we might meet at one of the refugi around 2:30 for a lunch. I explained that I’d brought my lunch, but maybe I’d join her for a hot chocolate if I were still here at 2:30. (I did not plan to be.)
After marching around and gathering the details of the rates and rental availability I was ready for lunch. I purchased some locally made cheese for my sandwich and found a chair in the sun. Despite the wholesale distribution of snow, it wasn’t particularly cold in the sun. After eating I was ready to try to get to the summit of the mountain for a 360 degree panorama. The only problem was the lifts were the annoying kind of drag lines that would do me no good without skis (or a lift ticket). So I decided it was time for a hike. I began trudging though the nearly knee-deep snow trying to keep as much as possible out of my hiking boots. Despite the dampness, I was pleased by the effectiveness of my socks in keeping my feet warm. A couple hundred yards of ascent later, and I could see the village far below and the people exiting from the lift at the top. The view from here was everything I hoped for except for a radio tower detracting from the gestalt of the experience. But the wind whipped up from the lake, and having finished my climb I soon began to shiver and put my hat on. I snapped enough photos that I was comfortable that I’d have at least 1 good one, and climbed back down.
My phone rang as I was crossing the village.
Awareness
New report just out.
How much more data is needed before people are ready to commit to appropriate action?
http://environment.newscientist.com/article/dn11088-blame-for-global-warming-placed-firmly-on-humankind.html
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