Train to Venezia

The adventure was just starting  out and I discovered a great spot.  Our train trip to Rome on Trenitalia’s Frecciargento 9350 began in Benevento. My first stop – the ladies room. It was wonderful and I encourage all who end or begin their journeys in Benevento not to worry about using the bathroom. There were only two stalls but they were as big as horse stalls. That means you can take your suitcases in with you and not be squished. At New York’s Penn Station I shudder at how terrible it feels to have those bags pressing my knees. The other station  amenity that appealed to Jack was the bar. Due cappuccini per favore – cost 1.50 each – double what they cost in Pontelandolfo – but hey this is the city.

We decided to splurge and booked first class train tickets all the way to Venezia. Two tickets round trip cost us a total of €300. The first leg was Benevento to Roma with a quick change. The train arrived a wee bit early and we plopped ourselves in the commodious seats. It was a 4 top table just right for a game of bridge – which of course I don’t play. Oops, I’m sorry, Jack hasn’t quite plopped yet. His suitcase was too big to fit overhead and they don’t have a luggage rack at the front. Hmmm – put it on an empty seat! Good plan. (We lucked out and no one ever took that seat). The host came through with newspapers, snacks, water, sodas. Ahhhh.

The guy next to us had set up an office. Each seat has electric outlets so phone, lap tops – even wee portable printers can be set up. Commuting with style. Or is that working under pressure?

Out the windows, the hills of Sannio passed us by complete with sheep and shepherds. Jack read. I wrote. It was lovely. Than the other shoe dropped – what is that announcement about Caserta? There was a problem on the track after Caserta and we could sit there for 40 minutes. Beh! That puts a big damper in our travel plans – we have a connecting train in Rome. Our seat mate said I should talk to the Capo di Treno – who or what the hell is that? Lets go find out.

I walked through the first class cars towards the bar – how civilized – searching for Il Capo near the bar. Even though it is only 9:30 AM I am tempted to have a caffè corretto – toss that shot of grappa in that coffee please. Yes, he must be  Il Capo – I’m guessing head conductor. There, in a uniform that looked an awful lot like Captain Kagaroo’s, was the charming and robust Il Capo. He glanced at my ticket and said it would be easy to change the connection at Rome Termini – just go to the info kiosk between tracks 3 and 4. There is a train to Venezia every hour. Whoops – the train moved, I guess the wait wasn’t the predicted 40 minutes. We didn’t sit for 40 minutes, they put us on a different track. The sloooooo mo track from Campobasso to Roma. The same track the 12€ ticket from Boiano takes. The seats may be first class but we are poking along.

Looking at the bright side – it is a clear and sunny day – the wifi works! I jumped to an empty seat, set up my iPad and keyboard, put on my classy shades, watched the world go by and sighed. Oops, I sat up straight, sucked in my gut and smiled. Here comes the cute host boy again with more drinks and snacks. I’m being good and just looking not touching. AT the snacks – the snacks.

We pass Cassino. It’s laundry is fluttering from terra cotta and sun kissed yellow high rises. Smaller towns are bleeps as the train chugs on. Then countryside with plowed fields and neat small homes surrounded by goats and sheep enclosed in make shift fences. I expect to see barefooted children with their dogs standing near the tracks waving. Factories – 1950s style boxes – break up the green. I turn my head – a field of solar panels out one window and untouched hills out the other.
Staring is great fun and really relaxing until my inner “equal justice girl” roars out and and dons her cape. I realized that all of the beautiful verdant hills are unencumbered with freakin’ ugly wind mills. I’ve written about the windmill blight on the Southern Italy landscape. I just need to say it again. How come they don’t put any on the hills outside of ROME! Take a cleansing breath and get over it. Questa è italia.

That reminds me – no one ever checked our tickets. Does that mean you can scope out first class and ride for free?????

Any minute the view I find unbelievable will appear. Waiting for it – yes, yes, – I poke Jack awake – there they are – the wonderful Roman ruins.

Roma Termini is always a ZOO! Lots of folks getting off trains, getting on trains – New Yorkers, you can understand this. Le Frecce, the fast cool train, department of Trenitalia has quick fix booths between tracks 3 & 4. This is important to know. We did have to wait about 10 minutes to get our tickets to Venezia changed. Instead of being on the 11:50 that we missed by 40 minutes, we were on the 1:50.

Since we had time to kill, we looked for a restaurant with seats. Close to the tracks is an American Style joint called “Roadhouse Grill.” We knew it was American style because there was a life size cow statue by each door – like the ones that artists paint in cute American towns. I rolled my eyes and looked at Jack. “It has seats,” he said. We went in and what a pleasant surprise. Clean, well managed and if you like beef a great place. The steaks coming past us were rare and gorgeous. Jack had a cheeseburger and said it was good. I opted for Caesar Salad with grilled chicken breast. The chicken was a real breast – not pressed goop. It was again, surprisingly, good. Lunch with one beer and one bottle of mineral water cost us €31.60. Not bad for lunch in a major city.

We are finally on the way to Venezia! Train 9430 was waiting for us on track 3. Only problem was our seats weren’t together. Beh! I fixed that in a smile and a wink. Ahhhhh my own wide reclining chair with foot rests. Nice leather seats, wifi, big windows and have I mentioned foot rests?

The scenery changes. The mountains are off in the distance. This valley of small rolling hills must have caused invading armies sporting armor and spears to grunt and groan. We race through tunnels and zip by fairly modern houses painted in those terra-cotta and sunny colors. I long for purple or red or green.

We had our snack and the requisite glass of wine and acqua minerale then stared some more.

Filling my huge window are fortresses, lakes, and beautiful villas set back and surrounded by tall, skinny evergreens. Toscana I shout. Next stop Firenze. Che Bella. An Italian portrait right out my window. Know what else was beautiful? This train had a wheel chair, easily accessible, huge circular bathroom. Complete with toilet paper! Traveling with a handicapped student, I remember an Amtrack trip to Washington and it was the train trip of hell. This ain’t Amtrack.

The view keeps changing as we go. I am mesmerized by the shifting landscapes – mountains to rolling valleys to the plains of the north to the long bridge over the water to the station “Venezia Santa Lucia.”

We got off the train, dragged our bags out the front door and gasped. This is what greets the weary traveler.


PS – toilest at this train station costs €1 and are just OK.

Train Facts:

Great App for your phone – Info Treno

You can purchase Trenitalia tickets on line at www.Trenitalia.com. They have deals all the time.

Overhead space doesn’t hold big suitcases – airline carry on size works.

You may be sharing a 4 person table with strangers. There is no extra space on the floor for that giant Murano lamp.

Use the Train Number not where you are going when you are trying to find the right track. You may not know the last stop on the train and that is the town that will be posted.

Ci Vediamo.

Mail Boxes ETC. Italian Style!

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Jack had two large suitcases.  I had one large suitcase and a small suitcase stuffed with books.  He had a carry-on.  I had a carry-on and a purse.  Easy peasy – we get a ride to JFK International Airport and are a scant few feet away from the Air Emirates counter.  They take the bags and we go off to have a drink and talk about our next six months.  In Milano we use a FREE cart to hold the bags and take them out to the taxi kiosk.  There the driver jams them into the trunk and escorts us to our apartment building – where he hands over the suitcases to a charming man who worked there.

Ahhhhh – we open a bottle of wine and stare out the window at the street. “Look Jack – the subway stop is so close it will be easy to get to the train station.”  EASY – we have three huge suitcases, one book stuffed sack, two carry-ons and a purse!!!!  What were we thinking!!!

We decided we would end up paying big bucks to take a cab to the train station – in rush hour traffic and not worry about the bags.  Than one morning we decided to walk down our street in the opposite direction.  There, on the corner was a Mail Boxes Etc.  Dragging Jack over to the window I pointed out the sign that talked about a cheap rate if you could stuff a bunch of stuff in a box and it weighed less than 10 Kg.  “The books,”  I screeched – let’s at least offload the books.  I went in and talked to Fernando La Vigna, the store manager, and he said the books would get to Pontelandolfo in 2 days.

The next morning, we dragged two shopping bags full of books back.  It cost us €16.90 to send the books – we were under the 10 Kg too.  I jokingly said, “lets go back and get more stuff from the suitcases to stuff in the box.”  Fernando looked at us and said, “we can ship the suitcases.”

The thought of a way not to schlep all the suitcases on the train and drag them around Roma Termini to switch trains was incredibly appealing.  We had looked into shipping the suitcases from the USA and the average charge door to door was $250 each.  I asked how much it would cost – “not to worry – not much.”

The day before we left Milan we dragged the four suitcases to Mail Boxes Etc. located at Via G. Pelitti 7 – 20126 Milano.  (info@flaservizi.it or 02 395 46101)   For €80 all four pieces went from Milan to our house in Pontelandolfo.  They actually got there the next day before we did!

Would I do that again?  In a nanosecond!!!  Riding the train is a great way to see the country – dragging the suitcases for a six month stay on the train is not.

Getting to Naples Airport

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Road Rage Doesn’t Become Me.

It is so exciting for us when our friends and family come to visit. It is not so exciting to drive to the Naples airport. We love our family and friends but aren’t kind and gentle enough to drive to the Rome airport to pick them up.  We (OK me – Jack is kind) tell them to fly to Naples.  Now, after schlepping to Naples numerous times to procure our loved ones, cursing and shrieking during the drive and watching Jack clutch the wheel while I turned green –  I started thinking there must be a better way.  Couldn’t the adventuresome guests take the train?  Yeah, yeah, yeah I know, I’m a bitch but have you driven in Naples or Rome?

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Janet Cantore Watson came and found her Cantore cousins in Pontelandolfo!

It is a small world.  I have always considered Janet my daughter and discovering she had family where I had family was an uber woo woo moment.  Being a brazen lady of the world, Janet was the first guest to take a bus from a stop seconds from our house to Naples.  We were told that an early morning direct bus to Naples stopped in the piazza in Compolattaro.  That piazza is literally 5 minutes from our house.  We were there in the wee hours of the morning.  A tiny little bus stopped.  I asked if it went to Naples. “Si” said the lying S.O.B. bus driver.  Janet kissed us goodbye and got on.  As we were leaving a big bus pulled around the corner – h’mmm I wondered?   The first bus only went as far as Benevento – the second bus was the right one.  Merde.  Janet had to figure out which bus from Benevento went to Napoli.  Jack just pointed out that the first driver was not an S.O.B since he stayed with Janet and escorted her to the right bus – which cost her €10.  Double Merde.  After tooling around Naples Janet hopped a €16 cab to the airport. Her experience taught us that we have to over research everything and ask ALL the right questions.

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My brilliant niece, Alexandra Rose, was the first to explore the train to the plane connections from Pontelandolfo to the Naples airport.

When she came to visit this fall, Alex wanted to hang in Naples with her cousin Giusy. ( I didn’t ask what they got up to and they didn’t tell.)  After landing at the Naples Cappodichino  airport she hopped the Naples Alibus Airport Shuttle.  It took her to Naple’s Central Train Station.  After frolicking with Giusy, she took a Metrocampania train from Naples to Benevento.  There we scooped her up in big hugs and drove the scant twenty minutes home.

It is wonderful to have an adventuresome kid in my life.  Living in London she has traveled all over Europe alone.  Alex has scored thousands of points with this Auntie Mame.  Returning to London, Alex was going to do the trip directly to the airport. We hopped in the car and took a short slide down the mountain to Stazione di Benevento.

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There Alex was able to get a ticket on a Metrocampania NordEst train to Napoli Termini.  She tells me the ride was quick, easy and uneventful.

Next, the ever resourceful traveler jotted down specific directions to the AliBus shuttle from Napoli Termini to Naples Cappodichino airport for whoever was going to try it next.  Alex’s directions were simple enough. Tickets were cheap too.  It’s €4 if you buy the ticket on the bus or €3 if you buy it at a shop – but we don’t know which ones.  She was easily at the airport and on the way to England.

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Marta Figueroa – our next adventurer.

Marta, the traveling buddy of my youth, spent a fun filled week with us.  Being another world wide explorer she said it was stupid for us to repeat the drive to the Naples airport.  We had picked her up there and she got the full driving in Naples and on the highways experience.  “How could they be passing on a solid line?”  “Is going that fast legal?”

We got Marta to the Benevento  Train Station in plenty of time.  There isn’t great parking near the station so Jack stayed with the car.  I went in to discover that Alex was right – buying tickets was a breeze.  The station was organized – just lacked parking which reminded me of NJ Transit.  The ticket to Naples was only €5.  She got on the train and all was well until she got to Naples.  Even though we had Alex’s directions and knew that the Alibus stop is located in Piazza Garibaldi midway between the Central Station and Corso Garibaldi.  No one could help her figure out which door out of the train station headed in the right direction.  When she finally dragged her suitcase to the right place a kindly gent suggested that since the bus wouldn’t be there for ten minutes she cross the street and buy a ticket in advance.  Marta bought the ticket and  watched an Alibus come in, unload and leave.  What???  Maybe the driver had to pee.  A second bus came in, unloaded and left!  Now she is panicking about making her flight.  Finally, a full 45 minutes later,  an empty Alibus appeared and let the throng of people on.  Imagine how many people were now cued up, worried about catching trains and dragging luggage.  Marta pushed her way onto the bus and then watched the drama unfold.  The driver wouldn’t leave until a very proper British type lady got a new ticket.  She spoke Italian with great force and pretension.  “I have a bloody ticket and will not buy another.”  Now, you must validate the ticket in the electronic ticket machine on the bus and it is good for 90 minutes from validation.  What Marta couldn’t figure out is if the women had validated it too long ago or it was three years old.  She said the shouts and screams were incredible.  People on the bus were offering to pay her way.  The driver threatened to call the police.  She threatened to – well I don’t remember what.  But there was much shrieking until – —

The bus took off and Marta made it to the airport with only twenty minutes before the boarding of her flight.  Her recommendation – take the taxi!

Some cynic said to me – “Mussolini is dead you can’t expect public transportation to run on time.”

Taking Nonna’s Mulberry Tree on the Road

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Headshot Waiting to be Hung in Your Lobby!

You knew it had to happen!  How could the actress in me just sit at a computer and write the tales of an Italian village?  When would I explode and start shouting the tales from the hilltops – or better yet as a one women show wherever anyone will have me. (And pay me of course!  This living on a fixed income stuff ain’t what it’s cracked up to be.)   The kick in my lazy butt to work on a show came from the Westlake Italian American Club.  Marie M, one of  the faithful Nonna’s Mulberry Tree subscribers reached out to me and asked if I would do a presentation at Westlake.  She knew of my theater background and thought that I would be a funny, entertaining and informative presenter.  I mean, of course she is right.  Gulp – I have a gig this January – now I need a show!

I quickly e-mailed back and said the title of my show was:

Il Dolce Fa Niente – The Sweetness of Doing Nothing

The BS  – oops – PR blurb I wrote was:

How does a type A personality manage to assimilate into the life of a small Italian mountain village? By taking a gulp and repeating daily, “it is OK to do nothing”.  It is expected that one naps every afternoon.  The evening meandering passeggiata through the piazza is for meeting and greeting not power-walking. I’ll share the stories of how a “Jersey Girl” manages to live in Pontelandolfo, explore her roots and ultimately learn, “Il Dolce Fa Niente”.

Pretty general blurb – I can pretty well talk about anything.  Now, here is where I need your help.  What would an audience really like to hear about?  Take the short poll to help me pick out topics.  Or better yet – leave a comment about what posts resonated with you, made you laugh, cry or curse.  Tell me what you’d like to know!

Grazie Tante!

How Do You Spell Rude? JFK TSA

Does anyone out there know the name of the tall TSA management type at JFK’s Terminal A? Wednesday, April 30th he was working at 2:30 PM wearing a beige cotton/poly blend suit. The tall balding dude has dirty blonde hair and a yucky beard. His vocabulary is limited to, move, move it, move it along, faster, move it along faster.

Notice how he is able to use the same few words in a variety of ways – Mensa candidate NOT. He only was capable of one volume – SCREAM.

We were in the crowded security check point with about a couple of hundred other travelers. All of us schlepping a carryon, briefcases, purses and assorted sports gear. There were quite a few families with kids. The moron manager treated each of us equally – he screamed and bellowed. People obeyed – like mice on a wheel – the louder he yelled the faster we moved. The LOUDER he YELLED the more he incited his TSA team to yell and whip us along.

Yo, dude, having a bad day? Take a Xanax. How about a please instead of a bellow. Do you get a bonus based on how many of the tired and poor you can push through the line in ten minutes?

I looked around for the cameras. Was this a sick reality show? Do you get a prize for taking your computer out the fastest? How much do you win for a quick coat and belt strip? Unearth your bag of liquids and toss it to win what ever is on the other side of the X-Ray machine! Get both your shoes on the conveyor belt in less than 3 seconds and the applause will be deafening.

It takes a lot for this seasoned traveller to get so upset that I literally started to cry and I gotta say it sucked. Knowing that the TSA could keep me off the flight to Rome or worse put me on a forever watched list, I kept my mouth shut as I was being screamed at generally by the manager and personally by the employee on my line.

I carry a C-pap machine – normally squirreled away in my luggage but since we are going to be in Italy for 6 months and I needed all the space in my two bags for clothes and stuff I decided to carry my medical device. Well, I wasn’t fast enough taking off my slip on shoes, my coat caught on my arm, my expensive Mac book was whisked out of sight past the X-ray machine and then the woman in charge of my line screamed, “whats in that extra carryon?” A C-pap machine, I replied, a medical device. I can carry my medical device. (No where is it posted a C-pap has to be out of its special bag.) Take it out – NOW. She practically tore it from me – me thinking shit what does it cost for a new one. I’m, sure insurance doesn’t replace one squished on a TSA conver belt.

Meanwhile the shrieking “faster, move it, move it along”, continued to fill the air. I was raced through the “human stare at my undies machine”, got to the other side and saw my stuff rammed up against and under other people’s stuff. Grabbing my stuff, as I was not so politely urged to move along, I limped to a free spot on the ground and got put back together.

My phone rang, it was Jack, he didn’t know what happened to me and couldn’t see me siting on the floor teary eyed. We had been pushed into separate lines.

The manager cretin was still screaming.

Who the hell is this asshole? If you know, let me know so that when I write my letter I can point a real finger of shame.

In Rome, we were transferring to a flight to Naples. We went through the crowded Pre-flight Security lines and were smiled at, chatted with and never once screamed at. The officer on my line did take my folding cane off the conveyor belt and use it as a telescope. It made the kids behind me laugh.

What a difference!

Laundry – Venetian Style

Traveling through Italy, Midge had an epiphany! Laundry wasn’t some mundane yet necessary act. Yards of laundry strung around Venice was art.