Uccidere il drago

Running in Rome is a funny thing... Over here, even in Italian, they call it "jogging".

The side streets are better than the main street for running, mainly because the sidewalks are narrow and crowded. The B and B proprietor, Barbara, says, "the air is much better on the side streets, don't you think?... Because of the pollution." I am just happy not to have to chose whether to dodge the overgrown ivy and pedestrians or dodge the throng of fiats and smart cars that whizz by. Barbara says to me, "I saw you out on your run, and I used the horn. You seemed very serious and fast." I replied that I was just trying not to get lost. I had a hand drawn map (that on my first 'run' out I seemed to stop and check every ten feet) and know only about as many italian words as I have fingers so if I get lost....you get the idea.

The side streets have no sidewalks so I have to run in the road...but after the first tenuous time out, I feel free! Dodging the cars becomes a game and I love the winding streets. The rolling hills are great fun and in stark contrast from Firenze. Apartment complexes line the hills and I wonder what it is like to live here. A few miles from the Tiber river...where new and old collide. Gucci and ancients walk the line, playing chicken...jockeying for importance.

In Firenze, running up to the piazza del Michelangelo, I felt like rocky running up the art museum steps. Triumphant, I stood looking out on the city...reflecting on the wonder that had washed over me in the previous few days. One of the most important being the de chirico exhibit and visiting the piazza Santa croche afterwards. Envisioning what the painter felt as he laid brush to canvas. Of this whole experience I thought of his words, "what is there to love if not the enigma."

Location:Via Campione d'Italia,Rome,Italy

European slaying, take one.

My red eye flight led me the Firenze airport at 12:30, 3 hours before my friends wedding was about to begin. I caught a cab ride across town to the train station, successfully navigated the italian ticket machine, and hopped abroad the first train I could to Prato. My watch showed 1:30 upon my hustle across the square in Prato to catch my next cab ride to the villa where Luca, the groom, had booked me a room....or at least was supposed to. I had no confirmation number, and no phone number for the "boarding house" as he had called it. While this made me a bit nervous, I had heard rumors about the Italian way and their relaxed nature of things, so I figured...when in Rome. I showed the driver, whom spoke no English the address, she nodded as her slender frame hoisted my huge suitcase into the trunk. Twisting up the alley that they called a road through the countryside, honking the horn around the corners to let the oncoming traffic know that we were there (2 cars could not fit on the same road, the blind corners needed the honk)
The car grinds to a halt and she looks at me in a way that says, "TaDa". To my right are some huge gates and a sign for a villa carved into them. The villa looks straight out of "under the Tuscan sun" and is amazing.
As the cab speeds away, I think to myself, if this is not the right place....I'm screwed. Let's recap: I'm a few miles from town, I have no idea where I am, I don't know the language, and it's 2 hours until the wedding.
I haul my large suitcase, which holds my world for the next two weeks, into the courtyard and look around for a door.
After I have situated myself, I stand in front of two large wooden doors fit for a castle and press the buzzer with my fingers crossed. My heart sinks a little when a voice emits from the speaker in incomprehensible fast Italian. I stammer nervously, "I'm here for Luca and Michelle's wedding." Hoping that the person who holds the keys to the bedroom I hope to sleep in that night understands some English. Like magic, the door opens and the proprietor takes one long look at me and says, "you must be from Boston!"
After a quick shower and change of clothes, I don my heels for the two mile walk to the church, feeling like the victorious warrior I was. My reward? One of the best nights of my life, at a wedding that was so beautiful and special, it made me say, " if I ever get married again, it will be here."
Keep your heart open and adventure will find you.

Location:Florence, Italy