Category: Italy

Posted on

Next mythical fuckup

I have always said that a Greek that wants to respect himself needs to miss at least one flight in his life. And listen to his/her name being called from the airport speakers a couple of times. I score ok in both, proving my Greekness, all these back at the time. Now I grew up and I am serious and I have been Dutchified, so I do not do these stuff. And I am together with a Dutch, what could possibly go wrong. *BIG LAUGHTER on the background.*

So…we were happy we left the last camping, where our spot was getting sauna tempratures. And the sea in the front was of course, guess what, not suitable for swimming. A real surprise, indeed. And full of hope we headed to Lecce, to spend few hours before taking the ferry to Greece from Brindisi. So we thought.

Funny that this has been the only thing planned for the entire trip: the tickets to Greece and back. Just to prove we totally s*ck with preparation.

Anyway, we were happy with incredible Lecce (Gioia had some typical local ice cream and forgot she walked 2,5 hrs in the sun with 35 degrees), and we were back in the camper.

We had parked just outside the centro storico, easy peasy, because we are experienced travellers and we rock. And according to our very accurate estimations we would be in Brindisi 2,5 hrs before the boat leaves, so we could take it supereasy and prepare ourselves in slow motion (empty the fridge, take clothes for the boat) and wave to Italy like in a post card.

Martijn checks the address of the ticket pickup point in Brindisi to type it in the navigation system (regular routine before we leave). And I am in the back, taking care of Alex. And then this soft voice comes from the driver seat:
Martijn: Sissy, we do not depart from Brindisi.
Sissy (heart stop): wtf?
Martijn: we leave from Bari.

The next scene is from a movie. Sissy almost throws Alex in his car seat from a distance, says: Gioia, you need to listen to us now and do not f*ck around (Gioia’s default attitude), ties Gioia in her car seat and at the same time tells Martijn: ‘tell me we can still make it. We can, right?’ Martijn ticks ticks ticks in the gps, the seconds are like centuries and within half a minute the engine is on, everything in the cabin secure to not fly and with the exact address not yet in the gps (it could not find it of course, Murphy’s law) we start driving. And I look at the printed ticket confirmation that was forgotten in a cupboard since we left Amsterdam: Bari – Patras. Loud and clear.

F*ck, f*ck, f*ck.

Long story short we made it on time. I thing I lost one of my fingers in the process, biting it, removing side skin and all – I had to release the tension somewhere. And Martijn let his greek side emerge (well, it is not that hard, he is anyway not completely Dutch) and started overtaking the crazy Italians. What do you mean by ‘campers of 8,5 meters length and 3,20 m height do not take the left lane? And go slowly behind trucks?’ Ha-ha-ha.

We had 10 full minutes to prepare for 4 people sleeping in a different place (cabin in the boat) after a month in the camper. Me in a speedy Gonzalez mode, Martijn (knows after 10 years), not talking at all to me, calmly doing all physical demanding work of carrying and rearranging and carrying 9kg Alex. I was literally throwing toothbrushes to a bag from a distance (they went in). Stress. Not sure how long it took me to calm down after we entered the boat.

We still don’t know what went wrong, we both remember wanting to book Brindisi. Probably Martijn saw there was no boat that date? Some price difference? Sissy (IT consultant): a wrong click in the dropdown menu? Bari and Brindisi both start with ‘B’, easy to mix up. No one will ever know. But one thing is for sure: no one of us ever checked the printouts. Sigh. So are we, people full of pitfalls.

(Laughing with the previous post): Bella Grecia, here we come. From Bari though. Pfiew…

Posted on

Getting closer!

Bella Grecia we are getting closer! I wave to my mom and beloved friends on the opposite side, we’ll see you very soon! We just crossed Brindisi, going even more to the south. In two days we’ll be back here for taking the boat.

Posted on

The sea

I hope you have been around Italians when someone NOT Italian has cooked pasta for them. Priceless. Facial expressions and all types of comments about the wrong combination of everything with everything else (did you know paprika could never be combined with tuna?), and of course, how not al dente they are. I think this is a fair equivalent to how Greeks react to shitty sea, and I am no better than this.

The first time I saw the sea in front of the camping at Palinuro, I was deeply shocked. Speechless sort of shock. This beach in Greece would not be exploited at all. If an AirBnB house had such sea in the front, the description would say something like: ‘the house lies by the sea, NOT suitable for swimming’. Or something around these lines. In front of our camping we had 4 rows of umbrellas so close to each other you could not reach the sea (I guess intentionally). You didn’t have difficulty entering just because of ‘some stones’, it was clearly impossible to enter. We talk about tectonic plates of some sort, a real joke.

And then I looked around: no one was swimming. Right. We go to the sea to look at each other and get some tan. *nervous breakdown* To be honest, people made some decent effort to assist our impossible task of entering the sea and dumped bags full of sand, so you could walk without losing your feet in the process. Of course you looked a bit like Jesus walking on the surface.

I tried to hide my shock, especially to not disappoint Gioia who looked forward to the big ‘finally, by the sea’ moment. Everyone that knows me, knows I can never hide what I feel, so despite my sincere effort, I looked depressed for the next 2 hrs.

And then it dawned on me. I have never, ever, heard of a Greek visiting Italy in the summer for sea holidays. I am not saying there is no single one, but I never heard it, let’s say it is very uncommon. You go to Italy to visit amazing cities, culture and beautiful landscapes (bella Italia still holds), but nothing about the sea. Whereas the greek islands are every summer full of Italians #nowiknowwhy. It took me only 36 years to realize, well, better late…

Update: the impression has gone up a bit with the days passing, but not much. Yes, you can find beaches you can enter the sea, yes sometimes (not often) it is not windy and you can also see your feet under water, but overall..home, sweet home. I would say if someone wants uncompromised beautiful sea for the summer, save yourself some effort and just go to Greece (I have received the question: ‘which island shall I visit’ so many times, that I have made an Excel, ready for you to use).

Anyway, we are in Puglia. The supposedly paradise of crystal waters. And seaweed. And black rocks. But we had a fantastic day today, hybernating by the sea in front of our camping. The closest so far to my (I admit) high standards.

Posted on

Lazy asses in lake Trasimeno

(Check section ‘Route’ for where we are)

We have been so extremely unbelievably lazy the last 4 days that it almost felt like holidays in a Greek island before the kids. Almost. The longest distance I walked was to the toilet and back. We would take naps on the chairs after lunch and the biggest event of the day was swimming in the swimming pool. I tried entering the lake, but after 1.5m in the bliah water and more than a zillion mosquitos I could not help my ‘how disgusting’ arrogant Greek attitude and turned around 180 degrees running out.

We also had a surprise visit from Alex C., now we are 1-1 with the surprises. His fight was cancelled, so he was back in beautiful Umbria for another day.

Packing and going again seemed too much effort, so we postponed leaving for another day. Serious laziness alert. Alex (Alexis) swam for the first time in his life, but I guess we thought he is one of us and forgot his age, so soon afterwards he had an ear infection. And fever. Ai ai ai. The sweet little moppie spent long hours in our hugs and it seems he is improving. (Gioia had her first of many ear infections at the same age. I hope the similarities stop here, cause Gioia went on for another 4 months of fever every other weekend).

Riccardo drafted a route for us and Alex C. filled in more details. So we have a route and we are allowed to be over the top lazy, checking only for suitable campings. I love it.

We are on our way to some waterfall (Marmore) and with 33 degrees outside we worship the existence of air-conditioning. A presto!

Posted on

When I was young – and the beauty of not planning

Do you remember how it was to be young? You would leave home to meet friends at around the time you now go to bed. The day was long and you were rarely in a hurry; everything moved slowly. Now things are different. If I need a millisecond for myself I need to arrange stuff the whole time, so there is some sort of efficiency and the day can fit some ‘me time’. Do not think intense enjoyment during ‘me time’: it is mostly looking at the ceiling, dead, happy that no one is demanding anything from me.

This whole thing with the camper made us young again. So when I received a message from Alex C. somewhere in the north of France, (day 3 of our trip or so) that he would give a party in Italy to celebrate his 40th birthday together with four other 40-year-old friends, we decided to go. Because we are young and because we can. Who cares about the initial idea of travelling through b-roads, coast by coast around France? This is why we have vague plans: to be able to NOT follow them! We started taking the highways instead, and started driving as quickly as we could to make it to the party. It would be a surprise not only for Alex, but also for Riccardo and Domenico, for old Delft’s sake.

To be honest I thought Martijn wasn’t serious when he said ‘let’s go’. Not only because we should all of a sudden start rushing, but also because the party was somewhere in the mountains of Umbria, in something like a forest with something like a building. Google street view showed narrow rural uphill roads: the camper could no way fit. If we could make it width-wise and not fall to the side, we would definitely hit the side trees because of our height. ‘Jesus Martijn, the kids..’ Martijn would have a constant smile and his usual ‘komt goed’ attitude. We also convinced ourselves that if we don’t manage to arrive we would still enjoy Italy for longer than we initially thought. Ok then, let’s do it.

The last 15 minutes of the route I was holding my breath. Mostly because the road wasn’t that bad and I thought it would get bad anytime. Imagine, being 10 min far from the party and unable to reach it. No way.

And then it happened: 50 m from the ‘house’ we could not pass because of the trees. I jumped out to ask for help, with Martijn screaming: noooo, you will ruin the surprise. Alex saw me, hugs, nice to see you etc and then they got right at work: with a ladder and ropes and covers to hold the trees so we can pass with as little scratches as possible. Bingo. We parked in the perfect spot for the kids to be able to sleep while mom and dad party.

Great party, amazing people, lovely location and our beloved friends – what more do u want. Thank you zio for saying I looked the same. Even if it was dark and you probably changed your mind the morning after, it is the greatest compliment I can receive after 10 years and two pregnancies. #zioforevergrateful

I installed an app to check the music level cause apparently louder than 80dbs could create ‘permenent hearing loss’ at (little) Alex. Ups. I did my checks, we were safe. Poor Alex. His first party was a bit loud. He woke up many times and the last dj gave up at around 09:00 am. Which is after we woke up for breakfast! It is nice to be young again!

The day after there were ‘corpses’ spread all over. More chit chatting and more catch ups with great views. We confirmed once again Italians are intensely enjoying life and moved on to enjoy more of this incredible country.

Posted on

After the rain comes the rainbow

Ok, this is to not explicitely write: ‘after a shitty day, there comes awesomeness again’. 

A detail I intentionally omitted yesterday to save my mom from a certain heart attack was that Alex spitted some blood. That was minutes before the realization of the flying window. We called the doctors in NL, chatted, analyzed the situation, we sent photos etc. The conclusion was it might have come from coughing, no issue, we should not be alarmed and keep monitoring. It ended up being…tadaaa..a tooth.

The little fat happy man has an emerging tooth (you see its top on the bottom left). We were so unbelievably proud to capture his first tooth yesterday, you cannot possibly understand how proud we were today capturing his second one.

As if this whole shitness was not enough yesterday, we decided to spend the night for the first time in a so called camperplaats. This is a parking space for campers where electricity is provided. No more. Oh my God. How can people possibly pay to stay there. I would demand to get paid instead. Picture this: steel, cement, next to the road. Thousands of mosquitos and heat. Suicidal, really.

The good thing if you had such a crappy day is that it can only get better after that. And it did. Today we arrived at an unbelievable camping, in Chianti, Italy. Wow. How can these places not be packed with tourists and how lucky we are to find them. The camping is in layers with trees overlooking winefields and the village is old, elevated, with amazing views on the valley and incredible people. Wow.

I hope that the rule of ‘crappy days are followed by good days’ doesn’t work reversely. Because now that Alex is back in his bed and happy and we are sitting outside with gin tonic (proost Hannah and Daan) we are in a serious vacation mode and we don’t want to compromise this a bit!

PS: Today I was putting Alex to bed and Martijn was laughing uncontrollably outside together with Gioia. Not sure what kind of jokes made them both laugh so loud, but we are supposed to be a bit quiet when putting kids to bed. Martijn entered the camper at least twice to grab smth from the fridge. I did not make the ‘sssssshhhh’ remark. The third time he comes to the fridge I made a remark and Martijn said giggling: ‘Sorry, I forgot the lemon for the gin tonic, it was an emergency’. Vacaaaaation, tadaaaaaa!

Posted on

And the biggest fuck-up prize goes to…

Ups, I did it again. I make at least one fuck up mistake a day, but today I brought this to a whole new level. (Mom, if you are reading, stop now, you can still prevent a heart attack).

My top fuck-ups:
1. Leaving the drawer with cutlery unlocked. Seconds later, in the first curve, it opended widely and stopped only few cms from Gioia’s nose
2. Closing the window shades of a specific window in such a way they were almost permanently destroyed
3. Closing and ‘securing’ the windows when leaving the camper, wondering why there is a persistent 1 cm distance and why they ‘seem’ open. Guess what, they ‘were’ open. Tens of mosquitos were the proof of it.
4. Falling from the ladder (honestly they s*ck because they do not click anywhere, so with a wrong distribution of your weight you can fall backwards – together with the ladder)

But the grande belissimo non comparable fuck-up, which made me think if I even want to continue this trip (so bad it was), was today. Martijn was wondering if all windows were closed cause he felt a bit of a breeze while driving. (Reminder: Alex and I slept together in the bed above the steering wheel). We stopped, he climbs up and he realizes there-is-no-side-window-at-all. As in: the window flew away. As in: the window was never closed (apparently). Ups.

We are now travelling with a hole on our roof, amateurely sealed with the top of an IKEA transparent box that we use in our storage. And contrary to all weather forecasts it just started raining. Ups.

There is a rescue plan that involves us receiving the missing window in a week and install it ourselves, but (very big but), we need to give an address for them to send it. And we have no idea where we will be in a week from now. Good luck making a plan for two people that just cant do this when on holiday. Ups.