ITALY

POSTCARDS FROM ITALY
(May 2004)

POSTCARDS FROM ITALY

For the first time in a long time, I find myself at a lost for words. How can I begin to share how “fabuloussimo” this place is! It was like living “La Vida Loca” meets “La Dolce Vita”!
Outside the organized tour, we had the privilege to being hosted, pampered, and entertained by some of the top luxury hotels in Italy, among the best in the world. We were given complimentary stays in suites with awesome views. A Room with a View was not only a novel/movie, but an understatement during this trip.

Within the organized tour, by some stroke of luck, instead of being stuck in a tour bus filled with 30 to 40 tourists, we only had one tour mate, Barbarrrrah from Alexandrrria, Virrrginia (as our Italian tour director, Nicola, would say her name). Hence, the three of us were personally driven and guided by Nic on his private car up and across Central & North Italy. What a way to see Italy for the first time! We loved everything from the scenery, the art, the architecture, the history, the culture, the people, the wine, the food, the fashion, etc. I’ve always admired the works of the masters from Raphael, Michelangelo Buonarroti, Bernini, Botticelli, and da Vinci…to Fellini… all the way to Valentino, Ferragamo, Ferre, Prada, Dolce & Gabbana, Versace, Cavalli, Gucci, and Armani…phfeww! It was great to finally see these works of art up close and personal.

POSTCARD FROM MUNICH AIRPORT, GERMANY
We had flown to Italy via Munich on Lufthansa. The Germans gave good service, but the seats and food were awful. Sometimes, I am undecided as to whether I should thank my father or blame him for spoiling me with free First Class flying during my childhood and early youth. Now I’m stuck in adulthood, as a poor man with expensive taste…(LOL) Fortunately, the layover in Germany was short. Once again, Bill, U.S. citizen, took just 20 seconds to get through immigration, whereas I, Philippine passport holder that I am, was given the, “Ok, so what if you have a visa, what are you really going to do in Italy?” insolent look. Then with a stamp on my passport, he let me go only after Bill came back for me and acted like he forgot something in my bag. Hmmmpph…it’s a good thing I never followed through with German classes or I would have…Nahhh, I guess it wouldn’t have mattered…I could have said “(“@#$%^&*_+)!" and it would have sounded just like German, anyway.

POSTCARD FROM FIUMICINO AIRPORT, ROME
Unfortunately, the Pope, as usual, was feeling a bit under the weather, so he couldn’t pick us up at the airport in person. I knew we had indeed touched ground in Italy, once we met our chauffeur, Mario. He had me at “Ciao”. He was dressed in designer wear from head to foot, and compared to him, made me look like 10 bucks. I felt like I getting down on my knees and shining his Italian designer shoes right there at the “meet and greet”. He spoke little English, so I had to get by with my “un poquito Espanol”. While on the plane, I made the mistake of studying how to count in Italian first, falling asleep by the time I reached number 3. While I tried to practice my “Ital-Span-glish” with Mario, Bill went to get some Euros at the money changer. Bad move! He got ripped off “majorissimo”! We found this out only after checking-in at the hotel.

POSTCARD FROM ROME
On our first night in Italy, we had chosen to spend it at the Cavalieri Hilton, a 5-Star Diamond award winning resort situated on a private 15-acre Mediterranean park just minutes from the Vatican with panoramic views of the historic city center of Rome. On the first day, on our own, we covered the Via Veneto, Piazza Barberini, Fontana del Tritone, Spanish Steps, Castel Sant’Angelo, The Vatican. We went window shopping in the expensive Via Condotti and also in the cheap side of town. We met several of my countrymen living and working here. I was surprised to learn that most of the church goers were actually Filipino Catholics and not Italians. We learned how to buy a bus ticket from a “fumaria” (translation…7-11) even if the bus driver hardly ever checks. We learned why a cab driver never stopped for us. The next day was hard core touring of the city sights, joined by several people from different hotels from various parts of the world. Our local tour guide, Antonio, was informative but seemed burnt out. We were able to see the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, Piazza Navona, St. Peter’s Basilica, The Colosseum, Arch of Titus, Palatine Hill, The Roman and Imperial Forum, St Paul’s Basilica, etc.

POSTCARD FROM THE VATICAN

“If it’s Sunday, it must be Italy”…We found ourselves back at the Vatican on a Sunday, so unfortunately we were not able to see the Sistine Chapel which was closed, but fortunately, after seeing Michelangelo’s Pieta in St. Peter’s Basilica, were able to see the Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, come out of his window to give us his blessing right at 12 noon. “Viva el Papa!”

view of the Vatican City from our hotel room

POSTCARD FROM A RISTORANTE, TRATORRIA, OSTERIA, PIZZERIA, & GELLATERIA

The food in Italy is “delicioussimo”! We tried our best to eat in all types of dining places. We had a lot of pasta, pizzas, expressos, cappuccinos, and gelatos. One thing we learned that we weren’t aware of was that pasta is a primo first course and not a secondi main course. Oh, and make sure to take note of all the extra charges. The total of your bill will never match the amount you expect. Another thing we learned the hard way was that some places have an indoor menu and an outdoor menu…outdoor being more expensive. We had ordered something inside and had eaten outside and ended up getting charge three times the price. We argued our way out of it in monotone low-pitched English and the owners screamed back in high-pitched Italian. The whole scene was hilarioussimo! Wow, with the way the Italians eat, you’d think they would have more problems with obesity than the U.S. It must be all the wine and walking that comes along and after it. The women are so beautiful and trim! (I guess that’s the case while they are young and not taking catering to all the needs of their middle-aged sons.) The young men are, if not equally, even more beautiful and well-dressed. Even the straight ones…you’d think that they were all fashion models or gay… (LOL)

POSTCARD FROM SIENNA

Our local tour guide, Lucia, showed us around the winding streets of this walkable, delightful medieval city famous for the Palio, where costumed participants take part in flag-waving and a fearsome horse race around the Piazza del Campo. We covered the San Domeneco, Duomo, the Piazza del Campo, Torre del Mangia, Fonte de Gaia, etc. It started to drizzle a bit, but soon enough, Signore Tuscan Sun, fortunately, showed his face in his full splendor.

POSTCARD FROM UNDER THE TUSCAN SUN

”Ding Dang Dong go the bells…” (“My mother would never believe I wrote this postcard!”, complained the gay man, after asking for Diane Lane’s character to teach him how to write a postcard to his mother.) Hopefully, my mother believes that I wrote this. We were at Tuscany’s Chianti region for some delicious wine tasting. I can’t help being reminded about the famous line from the movie, Silence of the Lambs, where Hannibal Lecter says, "I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice chianti…f-f-f-f-f-f".
We were hosted by the vineyard owners of La Tancia, New Yorker Italians who used their trust fund money to purchase not only a villa, but an entire vineyard. I just called my mother for Mother’s Day. “Mama Mia, what ever became of my trust fund?!?!” “Tuscany is so beautiful, even if the sunflowers are still too young to come out and play (not yet the right season)…anyway give me some more of that processed meat and aged cheese “per favore” before I get drunk on this bottle of Chianti 2001!”.




POSTCARD FROM FLORENCE

The very first replica of a famous sculpture that I ever laid eyes on at home was that of Michelangelo’s David. My father was on a working visit in Italy when my mother discovered she was pregnant with me. She made a mental note that if her husband should come back home with a miniature statue of that famous sculpture, she would take that as a sign that the child in her womb would be a boy. True enough, without my father even guessing that this was in her thoughts, he did come with a marble miniature of this Michelangelo masterpiece. Thank God, my father wasn’t in Greece, or he could have brought home a souvenir statue of a Hermaphrodite instead. Imagine, I could have been born with big boobs, big hips, and a big penis! Well, at least, God blest my parents with a child endowed with one of those attributes…(LOL). Prior to leaving L.A., we had read that David was going to have his first bath after all these years, so we were a bit worried that we might not be able to see him. Fortunately for us, however, by the time we came to see him here in Florence, he was already towel dry.
Aside from seeing David at the Galleria dell’Accademia, our local tour guide, Adriana, showed us the Piazzalle Michelangelo, Santa Maria Novella, the Cathedral of Santa Maria dei Fiore “Duomo” & the Baptistry of St. John, Giotto’s Bell Tower, the Piazza della Signoria, Santa Croce, etc. The only purchase I had meant to make in Italy was a pair of shoes, even if I had been forewarned by several friends that I would get a better deal getting Italian shoes in the U.S. Florence being also known for its leather, I accompanied Bill to this leather shop. I tried on this jacket just for fun. Oh my…it was like it was made just for me and I just had to have it! It was cut by D&G’s and Roberto Cavalli’s cutter. So I came out of there with this unintended new acquisition and wiped out the rest of my shopping budget.

POSTCARD FROM FIESOLE We were entertained over Camparis and Italian hors d’oeuvres by Florence’s No.1 Hotel, The Rocco Forte Hotel Savoy in Florence, which is right on the Piazza della Repubblica, in the very heart of the historical center of the city. I got to see the rooms of Prince Charles, Bono, Sting, Bruce Springstein, etc.
Then we were whisked up to Villa San Michele, a former 15th-Century Franciscan Monastery with a facade designed by Michelangelo. It is located on the hills of Fiesole, just 20 minutes by car from the city center of Florence. This is one of the few places where most of my rich clients spend their honeymoon in Italy. We had our first “Bellini”, which is peach nectar with champagne, with some more Italian hors d’oeuvres. We had a romantic dinner on the house, overlooking the city of Florence and the Arno Valley, while being served by seven waiters at our beck and call to feed our every whim (well not exactly every whim). Too bad we couldn’t stay the night.

POSTCARD FROM VERONA

We were at the enchanted town of Romeo & Juliet and the Roman Arena. Verona is the Veneto region’s biggest city next to Venice. Our local tour guide, Giana, showed us around the Piazza Bra, Amphitheatre, Juliet’s House, Piazza dei Signori, Tombs of the Scaligere, Piazza Erbe, Palazzo Maffei, Ponte Scaligero, Castelvecchio, etc. We were pressed for time, since we had to be going to Venice. We didn’t even have enough time to check out some shoes. It was their “siesta” time and I even had to plead with one shopkeeper to let me in just for 45 seconds. Prior to leaving, we stopped to grab something to eat in an open-air café where my food was attacked by vicious birds. Boy, were they aggressive!

POSTCARD FROM VENICE

Nic parked the car in this garage close to the bus station near the entrance to the city of Venice. We then had to carry and drag our heavy bags down the garage, across the station, up and down bridges…“God, where’s my nanny, when I need her?!”…(LOL). Luckily, we soon dropped our bags off where a water taxi would transfer them to our hotel. On our first night, Nic took us out to dinner in a very nice garden ristorante, somewhere in the middle of Rialto & San Marco. In the middle of our dinner, it surprisingly started to rain, and this extended all the way past closing time. Since Nic knew the owners, they allowed us to wait it out and kept the wine flowing. We got pretty buzzed. Since the rain showed no sign of abating, we decided to make a run for it. Bill led us and some random strangers along the way through this labyrinth under that pouring rain in the darkness back to the ferry station. Somehow we found our way through. The next day we explored the Rialto Bridge, Grand Canal, St. Mark’s Square, St. Mark’s Basilica, the Palazzo Ducale, the Bridge of Sighs and the New Prisons. At St. Mark’s Square, I kept being reminded about this “diamonds are forever” commercial, where a man proposes to his girlfriend. I kept shouting, “I love this woman!”…it didn’t work…I came out of there without a diamond ring on my finger and people probably just thought that I was just some crazy tourist…(LOL)

POSTCARD FROM THE ISLAND OF MURANO

My mother had asked me to get her something from sleepy Murano, famous for its glass production since the 10th century. I wanted to go but Bill didn’t seem interested. Bill sometimes has this propensity to consider something only when he hears it from somebody else other than me, so I coaxed our tour director, Nic, to highly recommend it to him. Ha ha ha it worked! Fabiana, our local tour guide, announced, “So, I gather you want to go to Murano eh.” After our tour of Venice, she introduced us to another tour guide, Massimo, who introduced us to Alessandro, just to escort us to the water taxi, where we met Lorenzo, the driver who took us to Murano. When we got there, we were welcomed by Pio, who introduced us to the General Manager of the glass factory, Filippio, who handed us over to Valerio, the sales person, in order for us to watch Giacomo demonstrate the art of glass blowing. I spoke out my thoughts to Bill, “Why are they treating us as if we are Las Vegas high-rollers? I think we’re being expected to buy something in exchange. We better act like we’re rich.” Bill eventually got smitten with a particular piece and had our names engraved on it by the designer. Since he is always a good negotiator, we thought we had come out of there with such a superb deal. After we got back to Venice, we decided to go separately, since Bill was “shopped-out”, and I was “museum-gallery-cathedral-poofed”. While window-shopping on my own, I found a very similar piece to the one we got in Murano which was only at one-third of the price we paid in Murano! How could this be?!? I interviewed several shopkeepers around the area. I told them we had gone to Murano to make sure what we got was an authentic Murano piece and not to risk getting a fake one made in China. Apparently, the glass factory owners are aware of this perception and therefore take advantage of unknowing tourists. So they jack up their prices, also because they have to give the tour guides, escorts, and water taxi drivers their commissions! I panicked and immediately ran and hopped on the ferry, like Sophia Loren on "speed", to go back to our hotel hoping to catch Bill. Italy guidebooks make mention that there is a “no-refund, no exchange” policy. Lo and behold, the contract also has it written in fine print below Bill’s signature. Fortunately, however, after a lot of determined calling and faxing, Bill managed to get the factory owner to credit the charged amount back. Thank goodness, or else we would be looking at this beautiful piece of glass and be reminded each time of how we got “punked” in Italy.

POSTCARDS FROM LAKE COMO

POSTCARD FROM COMO

Part of our organized tour was to spend one night in a hotel located right smack between the historic center of Como and the world famous Villa d’Este in Cernobbio, at the western leg of this famed upside-down-Y-shaped lake. Even if we already had our hotel prepaid, I still tried to get a complimentary stay at the Villa. Unfortunately, George Clooney and Donatella Versace couldn’t fit all their celebrity friends and their respective entourage in their own private villas, thus some of them took up my prospective room space. But the villa was gracious enough to offer me a discounted rate. “What!...Don’t you know who I am?!...Signore Sean Saba does not pay!”...(LOL)

POSTCARD FROM BELLAGIO

Fortunately, I got another offer for a complimentary two-night stay by the other Italian beauty of Lake Como. Only 45 miles away from Milan, this unforgettable luxury resort villa in the most enchanting and secluded part of Italy’s Lake District, is The Grand Hotel Villa Serbelloni in Bellagio, located at the inguinal section of this upside-down-Y-shaped lake, just a pizza-throw away from the Swiss border. Nic and Barbara drove us up to catch the ferry at Tremezzo, enjoy the scenic ride and break a “panini” together for one last time before we all separated. "Boo-hoo-hoo".

a naked Pablo Picasso look alike sunbathing naked on his balcony

view of Bellagio from Tremezzo

As soon as we arrived in Bellagio, we were treated like VIP guests. We were given a large corner lake view suite. We had two balconies, 18-foot-high ceilings, and 10-foot high windows. I kept swinging the shutters open and shouting, “Buon Giorno, Italia!”. We opted to spend both nights in Bellagio, instead of splitting it with one last night in busy, stylish, modern Milan, since we were already by then “duomoed-out” and had given up on shoe-shopping, anyway. It was a great way to end this 10-day trip in such a beautiful and relaxing atmosphere.

POSTCARD FROM MALPENSA AIRPORT, MILAN

Our flight departure was at 9 AM, so our chauffeur, Giancarlo, had to pick us up at the hotel at 5 AM. We drove to Milan via Lecco, which is in at the end of the eastern leg of this upside-down-Y-shaped lake. As we approached the airport, I realized I had forgotten my brand new eye glasses in our hotel bathroom! Giancarlo was kind enough to lend me his cell phone to call Sergio, the hotel concierge, who told me that they would be happy to ship it to L.A. for free. So I had to make do with being partially blind for the next two weeks. By the time we checked-in at the Lufthansa counter, all exit rows were already taken. Apparently we were competing with other passengers who were also connecting in Munich from other European cities. I then remembered that the Italian consulate had advised me that any tourist requiring a visa should report to the police if they should go beyond eight days. Oh, oh, I didn’t do that. So we searched high and low for some police...to no avail…only to learn later on that it wasn’t really necessary and I needn’t have worried. Phfeww…nightmares of being an illegal alien on the run started to haunt me…but only for a moment!...(LOL)

Over Switzerland

Over Germany

POSTCARD FROM LOS ANGELES AIRPORT, U.S.A.

Over all, the flight was very pleasant, up to the last 20 minutes before landing at LAX. A heavy sleeper, I was abruptly shaken by a two sudden dips, hearing the acceleration of the engine, and was awakened by Bill who looked a bit pissed-off. Still dazed, I looked around and observed fellow passengers looking nervous. As I looked out the window, I saw we were now past the Pacific coastline and our plane was starting to rapidly ascend again and turning back around. Only after several tense minutes, did the pilot start announcing what had happened…in German first…(Yikes, I am fully aware that Lufthansa is the national carrier of Germany, but under this unusual circumstances, for the sake of non-German speaking passengers who are in the vast majority, please tell us in English first!) Eventually, after the translation was made, we soon learned that our plane apparently had come dangerously way too close to the plane ahead of us and got caught in its jet stream. Phfeww!...Anyway, thank heavens, we made it home in one piece!

“Arrivederci bell'Italia...a il milione ringrazia!”