I heart Florence. It is everything I wanted Rome to be. Now, there was nothing at all wrong with Rome. I just had a different idea of it. I have to admit though, when you’re sitting on your balcony and a piano accordion starts to play at the restaurant below, it’s pretty surreal. I felt like I was in my very own “mid 30’s divorcee starts new life and travels abroad to find herself” midday movie.
On arriving in Firenze (that’s right, I’m talking just like a local), I immediately wanted a shower. Now this shower had one of those hoses you can take off and adjust etc. I’ve used these at friend’s houses before, so I thought it wouldn’t be a problem. So I turned on the water to let it warm up before getting undressed. Big mistake. What I hadn’t realised was that this shower was missing the fixture that keeps the hose in place. So when I turned on the water- in typical PG 13 movie fashion- the hose sprang to life, whipped around and sprayed me in the face leaving my drenched. This bathroom is seriously full of fun. It also has a bidet. A bidet! I’m so excited (is that wrong?). I’ve never used a bidet before and I think the time is now. Did I end up using it? I’ll never tell. Or did I use it and kind of really enjoy it and have already ordered one online to be installed by the time I get home?
Now, despite that I seem to write a whole lot about Italian television in the following paragraphs, I promise that I actually did leave the hotel multiple times. I promise.
First show I came across was the game show Reazione a catena- which translated is Chain Reaction. It’s pretty much a word game- guessing synonyms or guessing a proceeding word etc. But for mum and I it was a whole other game. It worked like this: as soon as a word would come up on the screen, I would type it into google translator, and then we’d actually try to play the game. It was actually really fun… can you tell I’ve been hanging around my mum too long?
Mercante in fiera is another show I’ve had the great pleasure to discover. Having seen it twice now and after looking it up online, I still have no fucking idea what it means. You tell me.
http://www.bothersbar.co.uk/weekendspecials/mercante.htm
In this link they fail to show the “white angel” at the start (played by the same woman who plays the black cat) who seemingly introduces the show and has no connection to it what so ever. Now we come to Pupo. Pupo (Enzo Ghinazzi, a singer turned game show host) hosts both Reazione a Catena and Mercante in fiera. He’s super awesome and ladies love him. He’s Italy’s answer to Eddie McGuire. If Eddie McGuire were talented or loved.
I did think I would be leaving Italy without having a single Italian man hit on me. Not that I was putting it out there but Italian men do have a reputation and figured I was an acceptable standard of woman to be hit on. With only 2 days left in Italy, my prayers were answered. Lucky me. I had the waiter hit on me while out for dinner with my mum. This guy who was at first funny and flirty, became rude and obnoxious very quickly. He grabbed my hand while passing our table and he whispered in my ear something about me saying I should kiss him. He also ignored mum whenever she spoke to him and would just look at me instead. I’m starting to think that I was fine having not had the sleazy Italian experience.
While I get along famously with my mother, she is starting to annoy the crap out of me. Spending 24 hours a day with anyone for 3 weeks will do that to you though. But even when she’s at her most annoying, she’s also super funny. You must know that my mum has never been overseas before so she asks a lot of questions (that’s the annoying side) but also a lot of things are fascinating to her. Like yesterday we passed a shop filled with colourful Italian ceramics. “Wow, look at those huge plates.” (they were really big and quite a sight) Then almost in the same breath she said, “Look at those air conditioners!” Air conditioners that had nothing whatsoever different or unusual about them. That’s my mum. She’s also has an occasional bout of foot in mouth disease. Earlier today I happened to mention that when I was a teenager, she was the one who brought it to my attention that I had thick ankles. Unintentionally, she said, “I’m sorry I’ve given you my thick ankles.” We had a good laugh about it. Only about an hour later, she was putting sunscreen on my back and said, “You’ve got dads shoulders. They’re broad.” I laughed and told her it was a lovely compliment to have swimmers shoulders. Her response was “but it’s not like they’re muscly.” Thanks mum. Keep digging.
