Ruminations after 1 week

One week has passed since I first arrived in Italy, and so it is time for me to step out of my daily travel log and ruminate a bit on what I have found, and what I realize now that I had missed the most.

The Italy of 2008 is very similar to the Italy I fell in love with back in 2003. If anything, it is a bit more organized, without however having lost its charm. The internet is faster, some of the trains and buses are a bit more modern, and the newest American technology and entertainment has already made its way here, albeit at a 50% markup. Next door to the old style bread shop selling pieces of foccaccia with olive oil and rosemary is the store selling games for Nintendo Wii. How did this happen? My best guess is that the internet (newly improved) brought the knowledge of the new technology to the Italians a lot faster, so that the new high demand increased the speed of the supply correspondingly.

Besides this, not too much else has changed, at least as far as I can tell in one week.
Of course, this particular region (Valle D'Aosta) is a bit extraordinary; I would like to say that I'm seeing more Audis and Aston Martins than I used to, which would signify an improved Italian economy. I would also like to say that since I have not seen or heard of an American since leaving Milano, this is a clear indication of the faltering American economy and its impact on European tourism.

However, I would be mostly wrong on both counts. First, the Italian economy is in the gutter, or so says everyone here, and I am inclined to believe them. This means that the fancy cars are probably owned by tourists from France, Germany, and Switzerland, who frequent this part of the country.

On the second count, that of the curious absence of everyone's favorite fanny-pack-clad tourist, I can say with confidence that I would not be able to walk 6 feet without running into an American in the traditional outposts: Florence, Venice, Rome, etc. Regardless of the state of our economy, perceived or real, there will always be a sea of Americans gawking at David or the Colliseum.

Which has got me to thinking... why aren't Americans coming up to Val D'Aosta for vacation? It's full of ski resorts, wooden handmade chotchkes, gelato, and more Alpine charm than you could shake a stick at. I guess it's because everyone allocates 2 or 3 weeks to Italy if time allows, and there are always the other alluring places to occupy the time. Still, for those of you who think you have seen and done everything in Italy, please let me suggest Valle D'Aosta. If you like a trip to Mammoth or Sun Valley or Vail, either in summer or in winter, then you'll fall head over heels.

From the locally grown everything to the extraordinary sense of organization to the charming pronunciation of certain r's (the r in sentiero, or path, is prounounced with a subtle exhalation of an h, for example) to the millions of flowers of every variety to the stunning beauty of Alpine peaks, Valle d'Aosta is a truly magnificent jewel in Italy's crown.

Anyway, I think I've said enough to receive my weekly allowance from the Valle D'Aostan board of tourism, so I'll stop here. (did I mention that they are an autonomous region that teaches English, French, and Italian in the schools with equal emphasis?)

So, region-specific thoughts aside, what was it that I missed the most about this country, that made me desire so strongly to return? Well, at the risk of a writing a book instead of a blog post, I'll name those that jump out of my mind right now.

The biggest thing is the warmth and generosity of the people. Asking about the location of a place will not just elicit a "keep going on this road and you'll see it" type of response, but rather a 4 minute step-by-step explanation, complete with landmarks, warnings (if you see the bush with the red flowers, then you've gone too far), and often even an accompaniment for all or part of the way.

How about the well-crafted, aesthetically pleasing structures? We have our strip malls, while the Italians have doorways that lead to little open squares with various small shops. This, actually, is one of the things I missed the most. Walking down a street, you see a bunch of plain-looking doors. Open one of these, and all of a sudden you see a beautiful garden courtyard with the flower-bedecked window sills of various apartments, complete with a running fountain in the middle. It is this element of mystery, a "what's behind door number 3?" feeling that holds such excitement and nostalgia for me.

Finally, how can I neglect the food? It's not just the dishes themselves that are attractive, which after all have become familiar to us. It is the wholesome goodness of the food that I missed, the down home taste that exudes health and thoughts of friends and family. And I don't just mean a bowl of spaghetti with red sauce or a pizza margherita, either. I was so focused on eating other types of cuisine before I left, quietly lamenting the fact that this is my last good sushi or thai food. Now I realize that, like the Italians, I could eat this cuisine for the rest of my life. Not that I don't really enjoy food from other countries; it is simply that the ingredients here are so fresh and close to their origin, and the food so infused into the culture, that it is impossible to grow tired of it. There is nothing I know of that beats a fresh ciabatta piping hot from the oven with a piece of cheese (any type, you pick it and I'll eat it) and a sausage (like the one I bought today, infused with Barolo).

Well, this is not the last time I will depart from the strict travelogue. I am walking 4, 5, sometimes 6 hours per day by myself; that's a lot of thinking time, and I've got to share it with someone, right?