Wendy Caplin

After having emergency root canal on Wednesday for a tooth that had been dogging me for a few weeks, I somehow managed to get ready to leave on Friday for a trip to Italy. (Very sore of mouth because in keeping with my luck, one of the roots had calcified and become impenetrable but they were still drilling into it until they gave up and announced I will probably need surgery later.)My first time in Europe in almost 40 years. Harlow had a gig in Milan and we were flying out with the whole band on Fri. afternoon. Naturally, one of the singers,Frankie Vasquez, called Harlow on Thursday and said he could not find his passport (we found out that he had been unable to find it as far back as 2 weeks ago and had told several people who gave him everything he needed to get an emergency passport, but he never acted on it and never told Harlow till it was too late). So we started off with one fiasco. He was supposed to come to the airport but never showed. Everyone else made it in great time and we flew KLM for the first 6 hour leg of our journey. I have to give KLM kudos for making coach travel actually appealing. Each seat had a TV with movies and television shows and games. Seats were comfortable. If we hadn’t had the flight attendant from hell (every little request met w/attitude and annoyance) it would have been amazing. I even got an hour of sleep. Then we arrived in Amsterdam at around 6 AM. What an amazing airport it is. It has a museum!!! And at that ungodly hour stores and restaurants were all open. We had a fairly long wait and got to explore a little. Even though it was still midnight for us and we were all pretty wrecked. Then a short flight at 8:30 on a really cramped and crowded plane to Milano where we were met and taken to our hotel and left for a few hours for some blissful sleep.

At 4:30 everyone was taken to the venue. A seasonal Latin festival outdoors. Lots of pavilions with food from Brazil, Mexico, Colombia, Dominican Republic. You name it. And vendors selling clothes and jewelry. And of course, gelato and espresso.

The sound check was hot and tempers were short. But we got back in time to shower and change and then we were given dinner in Brazil Resturant which was a great first meal. The buffet was astounding. Cold salads including my favorite Russian Salad, shrimp and hearts of palm, tabouli , different grains and greens and cold fish dishes. Fried chicken and meat dishes. And then the churasco, Mmmmm, Chicken and cuts of beef. And a little time to walk around. I was particularly impressed by the paella that was about 5 feet in diameter and brimming with seafood and meats from the Caribbean Resturant. 2 next to each other that looked like they could each feed 100.

The concert was great. We had been warned in advance about the mosquitoes and happily one of the sponsors was "Off" so we were provided with spray bottles. They interviewed Harlow from inside the lounge which was shown onstage along with a very nicely edited piece on the sound check. A nice rush job. There were local dancers who opened the show and others who danced during the show. The band looked great and sounded awesome. The audience was in heaven. And the video crew did one of the best directed shoot I have ever seen. The images on the huge screen behind the band were gorgeous and we were all quite impressed. And our funny bones tickled at the sight of Richie madly spraying insect spray onto the back of Chembo’s neck during his solo. A great night for all. And a long one. And the poor band had to be up at 3:30 AM to catch their ride back to the airport to repeat the grueling commute back to the USA. Harlow and I got to sleep in and we did. Though we woke every hour.

Morning was a little grey and I hit the health club and tried to figure out what a kilometer was on the treadmill. Harlow had breakfast and then we met with Magali, who had arranged the gig. She took us to the car rental placeat Malpaso airport and held our hands as we tried to reach someone who could help us w/the special cell phone that Harlow had rented for the trip which had never been activated. Of course, the first instruction was to call a toll free number. "On what?" we had to ask. Somehow the his credit card company and the phone company had never communicated and we were phone free until that evening. And so began our adventure. First we got lost trying to find our way to the autostrada. And we discovered the miraculous GPSin our beautiful Mercedes Deisel, which spoke a very strange Slavic language we have yet to figure out. Leaving and entering Milan rank up with some of the most complex and unfathomable challenges in the modern world. But when we got on A-12 it was a straight shoot to Genoa and when we got close the phone was working and I called the hotel for directions and was treated to the first of many "Eets sooo Eeeeesy" declarations which translated each time as "you will be so disoriented and confused your head will spin before you figure it out". Harlow had found an extraordinary place, Romantik Hotel Villa Pagoda (you can check the website for great pix).It was built at the beginning of the 19th century as a private home for a rich merchant. It was gorgeous and inside and out. Beautiful gardens on many levels. A lovely little pool. The room was funky and full of character with great views of gardens. We were starving and ordered a snack by the pool. "Toasts" of grilled cheese for me and ham & cheese for Harlow. Then I walked around the property which was lovely. Layers of gardens and paths and even a hidden stairway to a door which seemed to lead to a beach but was barred up. We took a swim and then Harlow took a nap and I walked around town. It was Sunday and it was locked up tight. I did get to the sea which was very pebbly and the beach was full of kids and teenagers. I found a few parks and a great looking museum that was also closed. Then back to the room to rest and change for dinner.

This was one of the most extraordinary meals of our trip. It was served outdoors, under white tents. They poured us glasses of prosecco and we ordered a seafood stuffed calamari to split as an appetizer. Harlow ordered a sort of stuffed envelopes of pasta which was sauced with fresh tomatoes and crabmeat.It was awesome. But first was an amuse bouche (or whatever it’s called in Italian) of a circlet of fried calamari that was layered with seafood. I ordered an entrée of red tuna rolls over shaved fennel. We had a really lovely bottle of Vermentino. And for dessert the waiter recommended what was called a chocolate pudding but was more like an intense soufflé and was scrumptious. We walked around a little after. The grounds were on many levels. We took pictures of the beautiful (and strange) interiors. The massive chandelier and levels of marble stairs and halls. And then we collapsed into a stuffed and jet lagged stupor and slept till morning when Harlow grabbed breakfast and I packed up the room and we embarked on our next adventure: "Finding the Aquarium" in Genoa.

But first a word about transporting oneself around Italy. Not easy. For one, all the street and road signs are posted really low tow to the ground. They also pop up really close to the turnoffs and always have tons of names and option to choose from. And always there will be a truck ahead of you which totally obscures the whole thing. So you are either swerving at the last minute or missing roads entirely. And then there are the lack of signs when you need them. And so it took us over an hour to get even close to the aquarium (which we were laughingly told was only 15 – 20 minutes away) and then we parked and walked a half a mile to discover parking right there. But the place was great. Gorgeous ecosystems. Wonderful tanks of extraordinary marine creatures. And we had even learned to identify the harbor seals from a nature show we’d seen in the airplane. We watched dolphins being trained and jellyfish being hatched and there were even petting areas for stingrays. It was a wonderful place and we walked around with our mouths open. You get to see most of the exhibits straight on and from above. And then we found our first (and only) internet café where for a mere fortune I was able to connect for a few minutes but Harlow wasn’t and after bugging me for 10 minutes I logged off to try to help him and then neither of us could get on. Harlow finally found his Italia, soccer jersey from a street vendor.

We got some water and headed to the Ligurian Sea where we were going to spend the next 2 days. This was probably the easiest navigating we had. The weather was gorgeous and sunny and not too hot. We got off the highway early so we could scope out the neighborhood. A beautiful beach community right on the sea. Our hotel was a tiny bit farther out than we had wanted. But we ended up much happier with the Versilia Palace Hotel in Pietrasanta. We checked in and were brought to our room which was another charming funky room with character. Mismatched furniture and a HUGE sunny terrace overlooking the pool. The AC was just barely adequate (fine with me) and there were enough closets and bureaus for 4. We quickly unpacked and changed and headed for the beach. We were starving to we found a seafood restaurant that was still serving (at 3:00 it can be difficult to get lunch in Italy). We sat at a shaded outdoor table and ordered a seafood salad and a mixed grill. The salad was an enormous mound of perfectly poached shrimp and calamari rings and octopus. Harlow’s grill was a wonderful assortment of seafood. But first the salads were served two carafes of olive oil and vinegar with little domed tops. We turned them over but they didn’t pour. We twisted and shook them and they sort of leaked and the Harlow discovered that they were supposed to be popped off and underneath were pouring spouts. At that point the oil was leaking all over the table and our arms. And the owner of the restaurant was choking back laughter. The breadsticks and bread were delicious and every bite was wonderful as was the cappuccino afterwards. And then we had our first run in with food charge lunacy. There were all these extra charges that we didn’t recognize. Turns out that one is charged for bread and for linens. And sometimes there is a cover charge. And sometimes a service charge. And sometimes you are supposed to tip and sometimes you aren’t. And even by the end of the trip we hadn’t made any sense of it and probably overpaid our way through Italy.

We hit the beach after lunch and were surprised to find that the beach wasn’t too crowded. The entire stretch (miles long) was a continuous row of beach clubs distinguished from each other only by the colors of the umbrellas and lounge chairs in each one. Very family oriented. The sand was fine and dark and the water super clear and refreshingly cool. And like South Beach, extremely shallow for a long way out. We splashed around for a long time and lay out to dry. And we also noticed that when we looked away from the water, there were beautiful snow capped mountains in the distance all along the way. We later found out that the white ‘snow’ was actually white marble. And that despite the extensive marble mining in the Carrara area which we were right next to, there was still more to be had up in those mountains. Harlow went back for a nap and I took a really long and luxurious beach walk. Then met Harlow at the swimming pool which was large and so heated that it felt like a sauna. Deena, you would have been in heaven!!! We met a cute, just married couple from upper New York State who had been around a few days and recommended the hotel restaurant for dinner.

We showered in our very roomy bathroom and then took a drive to get some sodas for the minibar and saw some cute side streets and found a great gourmet store and then we decided to try to find the piazza which we’d seen pictures of. After getting lost a few times and almost killing each other, we gave up. Harlow rested and I walked around a little. Found a gaggle of extremely pudgy geese under a bridge nearby. And then met Harlow at 8 in the dining room. We both ordered the buffet antipasto. It was one of the most awesome spreads I had ever seen and I actually regretted even ordering an entrée. There was prosciutto and melon, herring and fresh anchovies, grilled zucchini strips and melting slices of grilled eggplant. Fried puffs full of seafood and vegetables, hearts of palm and shrimp salad w/sundried tomatoes. Yellow and red peppers. Tiny oval tartlets filling with either salmon or pesto or tomatoes. Salad greens and dressings. And more. Each prettier and more delicious than the next. We split a bottle of Pinot Grigio (fabulous) and it was accompanied by delicious breads. Then we split a seafood risotto (no great shakes) and a grilled sole in lemon butter that was expertly boned and filleted for us. And some lovely greasy potato rounds.

Desserts didn’t really excite us so we opted for gelato later. Took a walk to the stand we had found earlier and each had 2 flavors. Yum. And we walked across the street and stood at the large outdoor roller skating ring where kids and teens were whirling around to music and smoke machines. Truly bizarre and unexpected and entertaining. And then just made it back in time to crash. It was also nice knowing that we would be spending 2 nights in one place.

Tuesday morning I took a long walk while Harlow napped on the beach and here is the scenario I devised. It was almost exclusively young mothers and children and grandparents. No young men and just a sprinkling of middle aged dads altogether. Everyone on the beach was in great shape. All ages. All the women seemed to have the same slender long legged body. Even the grandmothers were wearing bikinis and looking better than I ever did in my 20s. Kids were beautiful and all lean. All the little girls had the same haircut with 2 little barrettes. So I figured the Dads were all at work and probably came down to the shore over the weekend. And the grandparents were babysitting.

Then we jumped into the car and headed for Lucca, a city surrounded by Renaissance walls and moats. And once again managed to get there during the siesta. We parked the car in a space that we weren’t sure was going to be legal. And it took a lot of twisting and turning to figure out where we could actually enter the old city.

But Harlow managed to find a German bank that gave us the only decent rate of exchange. I was trying to find some restaurants that were recommended by Lonely Planet but was absolutely unable to find the streets and we finally sat down tired and ravenous at a pizza place in a really ugly piazza that was home to a huge music stage (big festival of acts like Santana) and had our first pizzas. Quattro stagiones for Harlow and funghi for me. Not bad. Then we twisted our way back stopped at a beautiful church that was full of amazing art and statuary and a really bizarre glass box enclosing the shrouded body of (I’m guessing) a saint. Really strange. Then praying all the way we headed to the car which had not been towed and back to our hotel. One more useless attempt to find the piazza and back to our room. I had intended to hit the beach for a swim but was suddenly exhausted and lay down for a while and hit the pool for maybe a lap and then dressed for dinner. I took a quick walk to take some pictures of the funky and whimsical carousel around the corner.

And dragged my tired butt back to the hotel where we got explicit directions (so eeesssieee) to the piazza which involved parking at the bus station and going through a tunnel and then through this arch and there we were in this totally amazing square. Tons of galleries. Modern art and little churches full of antiquities, side by side. A gargantuan sculpture of a pigeon. Wild murals on building walls. It was like a beautiful fantasy. We ate at a restaurant recommended by our concierge (we noted that most concierges were young women w/long dark frizzy hair and black rimmed glasses, go figure) Inoteca Harlucci (or something like that) a seriously hip place with a large outside seating area and inside was long and dark and narrow with long dark narrow tables and lined on either side by thousands of bottles of wine. A room off the seating had wood burning ovens and chefs madly working. And then another room at the back. Every place setting had an antique toy that you could actually play with. It was marginally cooler inside and I had started to feel a little queasy that evening so we opted for inside. I had a fish carpaccio with 5 peppers that tasted like prosciutto. Harlow had a plate heaped with prosciutto (which didn’t taste like fish). And he ordered bacala (salt cod) that came nicely charred but soft and white inside. It sent him into ecstasies. I was not really hungry and had a tomato salad w/aged balsamic. We split a bottle of Vermentino and a fabulous fig cake dessert that was a special and that we tore through in record time. And then walked back to the car. The square was even more appealing in the dark but I was feeling seriously under the weather and wanted to get back to the hotel. I was disappointed because once I saw that piazza I knew it would have been a hoot to explore it for hours.

The next morning I was still feeling distinctly bad. Nauseous and tired. I packed while Harlow had breakfast and then took a quick beach walk which made me feel a little better. Then into the car and on our way to Rapallo. I was starting to think that maybe I was car sick. So I was not the greatest company for Harlow who was desperately trying to entertain me while I was desperately trying not to give in to the queasiness. We regaled ourselves once again with the Slavic male in the GPS and found the beautiful little port city fairly easily but then went bananas trying to find our hotel, Eurotel, which turned out to be up a twisty hill that we hadn’t known about. Even though it was siesta time the area looked amazing. A lot like the French Riviera (Nice in particular). We checked in – and here a word about Italian hotels. There were no bellhops in most of the places we stayed. And very few services, which was actually charming The only problem was that there were always these lovely marble stair to negotiate up with all the suitcases.. The elevators were miniscule. Barely big enough to hold us and our bags. Our room was a funny one with a spectacular view of the water. Harlow figured out that maybe it was actually a condo that was rented out as a hotel room. There was a locked area that was screened off that might have been a kitchen. And some locked doors that might have held belongings. And the bed was actually a Murphy bed. With big sharp corners that we kept pulverizing our shins on. I was feeling kind of out of it but we went down to the beautiful strip of restaurants strung out by the water and found a nice simple place where Harlow ordered pasta with seafood and I ordered an appetizer called "fantasia de fruites de mare" (translation "fantasy of sea fruits". Still makes me laugh). They forgot mine somehow until Harlow had practically finished. But they had an incredible bread that looked a little like semolina and tasted a little like sourdough so I had no complaints. Then we drove to Portofino. The views along the way were spectacular. Gorgeous little towns and blue water and large yachts and cliffs with incredible mansions perched on them. But the town itself was a disappointment. Pretty as a picture with cobblestone streets. But teaming with tourists taking pictures and souvenirs and not much else. So we drove back to Rapallo which we agreed was a much cooler town.

Harlow went up to the hotel pool and I walked around the town a little. Some of the stores were just starting to open. I saw some of the most beautiful fabrics ever. And a house ware place that had me drooling. And I managed to haul my sorry self up the hill to our hotel. Harlow was by the pool so I changed and got some towels and we sat out a little and then I was toast and had to actually take a nap. Harlow must have thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Usually I like to race around and see everything when he naps. But this time I felt so bad that I almost didn’t want to get up for dinner. But I felt bad for him and we drove down the hill and were looking for parking and we find a little pizzeria that had wonderful sprightly service (unlike lunch) and I ordered a pizza which was the only thing I craved. And Harlow had his steak and spinach and was equally happy. And got some of my pizza. We ordered profiteroles and were tickled to receive 2 little logs of puff pastry filled with cream and slathered in a mousselike chocolate covering and drizzles of dark chocolate. I even attacked them con brio. But despite my determination to walk around the town and see the lights etc, I needed to get back to bed.

We had wanted to take a cable car ride in the morning but I wasn’t feeling great. There was also a famous clothing market on Thursdays but we figured it was best to hit the road. We had to get to Milan by afternoon but had scheduled a stop at a Seravalle Scrivia, an outlet that had been recommended to us. But we had been told that it was in Alexandria so we drove there and then ended up driving in a HUGE circle and back around where we came from. Getting stupidly lost. But much better about asking for directions. And another sidebar: Italians will always give you directions. Even if they have no idea where you are going. Seems they would rather make something up than admit they didn’t know. So with the combination of the bad signage and the worse directions we were detouring quite a bit. But we found the mall and it was large and civilized and spotless and there were cafes and gelaterias and bathrooms and phones everywhere. Harlow wanted to look at shoes and I started trying a few on and the retail therapy actually made me feel a little better. Harlow found 4 pairs of shoes in 10 minutes. I found 2 pairs which he treated me to. Then we drove to the next sections which was more spread out. He found a jacket and 5 shirts and underwear. I kept thinking there were more stores and I wanted to make sure Harlow was occupied. But I did not do nearly as well as he did. We stopped for lunch and got panninis and cappuccino. Mine was delightful and eating made me feel a little better. And then we found a huge and gorgeous supermarket and bought a few little things and then we were on our last leg of the journey. Back to Milano. We managed to find the city but finding our hotel (Grand Duomo) was another thing entirely. Every time we asked directions we got closer as we got nowhere. Harlow managed to find the center of town and La Scala opera house,which was a real accomplishment. But the directions to the hotel were tortured and useless. Finally I called the hotel and was told to flag a cab and follow it. After a few more stabs we did just that. And even the taxi driver, a tough old broad, had to ask directions. But we got there (It took over an hour) and then our room had almost no air conditioning and a broken phone (it was fixed) and a broken lamp (it was not). We got dressed and went to walk around for a few minutes and try to find a restaurant that would serve dinner early. We found one that looked promising Ristorante da Bruno, and walked a little more and decided to eat there. After we were seated, people started to roll in. 4 American girls were seated next to us. It turns out that this restaurant had been recommended by Rick Staves and they had made a special effort to eat there. We were thrilled. I ordered a mixed grill and Harlow ordered linguine with white clams and we had a split of wine. They gave us plates of brushcetta. It was delicious. The food was divine and perfect. We split a tiramisu for dessert. Words can’t describe. It was awesome and what a great last taste of Milano. And I was feeling much better.

We trudged back to our steamy room and got packed and tried to catch a few hours sleep before we got our 3:30 AM wake up call. Naturally, the concierge had not made us the map to the airport that he had promised us. And the one on duty was sweet but clueless. So in the wee dark hours we were driving around in circles and getting different directions from various night owls. And after probably going a long way in the long direction we got on the autostrada and found the direction to the airport and drove for an hour and then thought we were lost again one we got close but Harlow found the drop off for the car and we dragged our bags into the terminal and checked in and boarded the first flight. Another small cramped airplane. They gave us coffee and some very decent sandwiches. But no time to doze. Then enough time to get through the gorgeous airport in Amsterdam and board our next flight. 7 hours on KLM. It was a long flight. We were beat. But sleep was not really happening. We watched movies and ate everything they served us and I was rejoicing at not feeling queasy. We landed in Newark and got our bags. Only one was missing. A big soft case full of our dirty laundry. But we were really fond of everything in the bag. Including every one of my bathing suits. We got home by 2 PM. Were greeted by 2 adorable kitties whose coats seemed to have grown prodigiously since we left (they had had their lion cuts in June). Sasha was purring at the top of her kitty lungs and Sophie was trying to pretend she wasn’t thrilled to see us. We unpacked and I put away the suitcases and Harlow had over 1600 emails to field. I had almost 700. And, lucky us, they were all coming in double. We tried to stay up till evening. Kept getting a second or third wind and then just crashing. And the nausea descended on me again. Big time.