The hard thing about traveling is that you are traveling, touching ground for a few days, seeing great things, meeting people and then moving on. I was feeling separation anxiety this morning in Padova and I guess I was surprised at how sad I felt about leaving. Not so much about leaving Padova itself, an interesting city with a complex history. I liked the people I met at my b&b, especially Chiara,of "A Casa di Chiara,"a very feisty, opinionated, strong woman who was constantly questioning me about life in America and how I see the world. For instance, we spent almost an hour checking me in on Monday because she kept interrupting me to go off on tangents about Italian taxes and the American primaries and why Hillary Clinton can be facing some many obstacles when Trump is such a clown and how can anyone take him seriously?I really liked her, but didn't have much of chance to get to know her much better than I did.
So we got into an ongoing joke about paying the tourist tax. I owed her 2 Euro for my 2 nights at her place, but she made me an offer. If I proofread her boyfriends resume, in English, I could skip paying the whole amount. Now I already gave her 1 Euro and I didn't really want to proofread his curriculum vitae, but she kept reminding me, "It's your choice, read his resume or pay me one Euro." So I figured, what the hell. I gave her that Euro (I think I did?!) and then I proofed his work.I guess I did it more because I like both of them and this little engagement was more than just the usual host-tourist thing. I liked both of them and if I could help a little, sure, why not?
Is there any reason to be surprised that I was feeling a little sad about leaving? But I got on the neighborhood bus, got to the train station and milled around for way too long, like everyone else. There's a cool thing about Italian train stations. Sometimes there's a piano and random travelers will sit down and play. Now, I saw this big Yamaha piano outside of a sandwich shop and I thought, I love to play music when I'm feeling down, so I sat down and started doing some gentle, sad chords and riffs. I got out my tape recorder and let it run as I just let my fingers drift. It felt good. And then I noticed this woman standing near me. She said, "I'll play, too." So I got up, surrendered the bench to her and she started pouring out classical numbers and pop songs -- I think I heard "Besame Mucho" in the mix. Pretty soon people were hanging out in the corridor where the piano was parked, listening intently. What a wonderful moment!
Train ride to Ravenna was pretty uneventful. Saw some sun for a half hour and then drizzle into Ravenna. Had a change over in Ferrara and rode for many a mile with a carriage full of teenage kids. Teenagers are teenagers everywhere. They were cute and really annoying and luckily they got off after a few stops. However, the train was suddenly quiet. Nobody was going to Ravenna except me and a few other folks in my carriage. Maybe the tourists take the slightly more expensive FrecciaRossa (Red Arrow) train; I was on the cheap local veloce (fast) train, only cost 12 Euro to go from Padova to Ravenna.
So here I am, at the start of another adventure in another historic Italian town. Already had a nice food experience. Looking for dinner, I found this little hole-in-wall gastronomia, a "take away" place where people buy prepared food for dinner. Or you can sit at the counter facing the wall and eat in, like I did. Paolo, the manager, cook and all around good guy, got me to try the cappellini, sort of a tortellini filled with doughy egg, cheese and something else, cooked with a tomato-ground beef sauce, a local dish, according to Paolo. Really good. And a plate of vegetables. I haven't had good cooked veggies in about two weeks. So they were cold. I wolfed them down and had a couple cookies Paolo makes with his own home made peach jam. We chatted a little bit about pasta, the local tagliatelle is made super skinny. Turns out the word tagliatella come from the way the pasta dough is cut, "tagliato," into strips. I was telling him about Fiorella's great pasta noodles cut out of flour she has made from chestnuts she and Giovanni collect in the fall.
What a nice start to the next couple days in Ravenne. Ate well, had a cool chat about pasta and now I'm getting ready for bed. Cool.
No comments:
Post a Comment