Groundhog Day

Fred and I arrived in Italy yesterday for what is our 11th July in Viterbo. I must've said, "I can't believe we're here already again," three times yesterday. It's mind blowing that this parallel world exists all year round, and when we come back, it's all here, just as it was. The people, the smells, the air, the sounds of church bells, vespas and bottle pick up.

About the journey: We took a direct flight from Boston at 10:45 pm. (It's just Fred and me this year, I should note.)  Our Alitalia plane was newish compared to other times. But, sadly, the movies were all really old and the food was odd—beef stew for me (???) and the tiniest little pasta dish for Fred. It was the size of two saltines.... maybe 1/2" thick each. I guess we can't expect much from an airline in bankruptcy. We slept more than we usually are able to, though, and it passed quickly.

Per usual, we bused to Viterbo, but it took a few hours to actually pull out. Students come to this program from far and wide, some flying from China to meet us at the Rome airport. We finally decided to leave a professor to greet one last traveller and then get to Viterbo by car. The rest of us took the bus and arrived in Viterbo around 5ish.  The bus driver was quite worn out and a little grouchy, but Carlotta, our Italian liasson and diplomat extraordinaire, sweet-talked him into three very important things:  backing the bus into the lot of the residence where the students stay (eliminating a long schlep for them with their luggage), agreeing to drop Fred and me off much closer to our place, and waiting ten minutes before doing so to let us retrieve our stored boxes in the residence.

An aside: Every year, the residence's superintendent of sorts takes us to the basement to get the aforementioned boxes we store there. They contain silverware, glasses, towels, a strainer, a corkscrew, a cheese grater—all items that were missing from some apartment over the years, so we bought them. And every year, he tries a million keys to the unit (unsuccessfully) and tells us we must've taken it home with us last summer. So, last summer, we cleverly made a copy. I had it in my back pocket as we went down to the room, and sure enough, ten keys later, he tells our director she must've taken it with her last summer. I whispered to her—What should I do? He might not like that we made a key! When he turned his back, I slipped it to her and she rummaged more in her bag and produced the key gleefully, and with apologies for having taken it with her. She totally threw herself under the bus for us. And now... he has the key again..... Ugh...

The bus driver—who finally smiled after Laura gave him a tip for his troubles—dropped us near our apartment. I sat with all our stuff while Fred made three trips with the boxes, and finally, we went together with the suitcases. It was the earliest we ever got our boxes and were able to get completely set up and settled before the first dinner. It felt GREAT.



Dinner was at Piazza Gesu, per usual, and was delicious, also per usual. It's magical that first night, and fun to watch the students' faces as they take it all in. We had grilled vegetables, followed by pizzas, followed by limoncello. Wine flowed too, of course.