Nonna's Mulberry Tree

Lufthansa – The Comfortable Way to Napoli

July 21, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Practical Matters - Living Abroad

This is for my New Jersey Pals – Alitalia doesn’t fly directly to Italy from Newark Liberty Airport. Remember, I told you the owner of Il Re restaurant, who is from NJ, said that the easiest way for his family to get to Naples was on Lufthansa airlines? (https://midgeguerrera.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/il-re-ghiotto-yummy-surprise-in-rotondi-av/) You have to change planes somewhere to get to Naples, why not Germany and avoid the hassle of driving across the river to JFK. He seemed like a smart and nice guy so I thought we would give Lufthansa a try.

Auntie Midge and Uncle Jack needed to get to London for Alexandra Rose’s graduation from the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts. We could have flown from Naples to Milan or Rome and then transferred on to London but thought – hey, let’s use Star Alliance miles and test out Lufthansa. We’re hooked! Even in steerage the plane was comfortable. My butt, like a beautiful redwood tree has gotten broader with age. When I delicately cram it into the normal economy class seat I am pinched, prodded and damn – it ain’t pleasant. These seats were wide and there was ample leg room for Jack. Who knew that some airlines actually give a shit about the comfort of their passengers? Flying to London the vegetarian sandwich snack was on great multi grain dark bread. Returning we were served tasty little sausages. The hostesses were multi lingual and gracious. Plus the beer….

However, it was the airport in Munich that initially really sold me. Great signage in German and English, as well as, helpful folks who were not pouting. After we got off the plane in the Lufthansa hub, we were greeted with free coffee and cold drink stations. The floor plan of the airport was open and we didn’t feel like herded sheep. The electronic walks zoomed us along. At one point, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing – a Work, Sleep, Rest zone!

I started walking backwards to keep the Work, Sleep, Rest station in sight. Jack put his carry-on in my back and encouraged me forward. I got off the bloody people mover and raced back to check this out.

1. There were individual desks or a communal counter for work.

Got a few minutes between flights? just lie back and relaxxxxxzzzzzz….

2. There were these really slick reclining chairs to read, nap or contemplate life on.

“Million mile club”? Midge, clean up that mind.

3. There were private sleeping rooms! There was a fee for those and a cute couple was sizing one up.

Winston and Camel smoking rooms! How continental. Cough cough. Honk honk,ugh hack. These lovely glass enclosed comfort zones for the nicotine addict were conveniently placed around the airport.

Hmmmm, an airy room crowed with hackers.

Each had signage that dully noted ” cigarette smoking is hazardous to your health or smoking cigarettes will kill you.” The young professionals who packed the places couldn’t read or didn’t care.

I gotta say, almost all the college graduates in Pontelandolfo smoke. The old men playing cards smoke. The kids in high school smoke. Che fa? Bo!

We got to our clearly marked gate and found comfy seats at the gate. They were leather covered cushioned seats with ample room for a well endowed derrière and a gap between seats.

The rave review now turns to shit. Our flight to London included the British swim team, a British senior tour group and just us regular gotta get to London folks. I knew something was amiss when a young mom asked about what to do with her stroller and the Lufthansa employee said ,”well they will stow it below but there are some steps you know. In a moment you and the baby may go first.” Time for general boarding was announced and we moved out the door to be faced with “some steps you know” – that translated to a million cazillianan steps down. I counted eight freakin’ flights when I was out of breath and couldn’t count anymore. The swim team took them with youthful vigor – as did the senior group. Those women must have been on a mountain hiking tour. I refused to whine and crept down, down, down the stairs only to face a bus to the plane that this short Italian needed a ladder to enter. Ally oop, I climbed up. Shit, we got to the plane and I had to jump off. Ouch. Now lets climb up that flight to enter the cabin.

“Stop whining – or was that bitching,” said Jack. The plane was again comfortable, the staff delightful and oh yeah we left on time.

The flight back was seamless. We were joined in London by a very large group of Italian high school kids. The plane from London to Munich was jam packed. Normally, all announcements are done in the language of the airline and sometimes the language of the country they are departing from – even Lufthansa on our flights over made announcements only in German and English. This flight, the Lufthansa stewards did something I have never heard before – they gave the usual welcome, safety and other speeches in not just German, not just the added English but also in Italian! The Italian students cheered and clapped. What fun and what courtesy to recognize that half of a plane from London to Munich was full of Italians.

I dreaded the thought of that bloody bus. We came down the exterior steps from the plane and the first thing I saw was a five year old on his hands and knees climbing on the bus. Jack gently shoved me to the front of the bus where the step met the ground. This was the handicapped, short people entrance and exit of the bus. So I really didn’t have to fear for my life jumping off the bus and that little kid didn’t have to crawl on. LUFTHANSA – add some bloody signs to the bus so that people know you have thought about short people!

We have decided that Lufthansa from Newark will be our preferred method of getting back home to Pontelandolfo. Danke! Grazie!

Land Line Phone? NO! VOIP? YES!

July 16, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Practical Matters - Living Abroad

Land line phones? Are they going the way of the dinosaur? My brilliant computer consultant Cyndi turned us on to Magic Jack. We have dumped our Comcast Cable Triple Play Plan at home and just use the VOIP Magic Jack gizmo. VOIP stands for Voice Over Internet Protocol, a technology for making telephone calls over the Internet in which speech sounds are converted into binary blah, blah, blah techno jargon blah blah… Bottom line – you need access to the internet to make a phone call.

For the initial investment of $69 for the Magic Jack gizmo that plugs into either a router or a computer. You get a U.S.A. number that goes with you anywhere in the world. Now that is pretty groovy but I wanted our existing number. If I finally sold a play or if something tragic happened at home like tidal waves from the Raritan River, how would people find me? Don’t worry, for about $10 you can “port” your existing number to Magic Jack. That is exactly what we did. For $79 for the initial year we now have unlimited calling in the USA and Canada and unlimited international calling to the USA.

We were just a tad apprehensive. I am a “show me” kind of chick. We set up the gizmo at home – dumped Comcast phone service – it worked great. The voice quality was fine and as long as we had high speed internet we would have a phone, voicemail, e-mail alerts of voicemail, caller ID, free directory assistance, call waiting and FREE international calling to the USA.

To have a Comcast bill that made sense we dumped cable TV too – that was a wee bit more challenging. The Triple Play Plan – means you use them for the phone, cable television and high speed internet. Since our plan is not to be home much, having the flexibility of carrying our phone number with us is wonderful. The internet is everywhere and so is connectivity.

Before we left for Italy we tried the Magic Jack with my laptop and Jack’s. It worked fine. We just had to buy a traditional phone with a cord that could be jacked into the Magic Jack. I bought a $9.99 model at Radio Shack. We plugged it in and tested it at home. It worked great. Jack packed it in his suitcase and off to Europe we went.

The initial dilemma was the lack of internet service at the house we rented. Ooops. Magic Jack is a VOIP – need that internet. Wait – there is an iPhone App for Magic Jack! I set it up on my phone, logged into Magic Jack and boom had free international calling over my 3G data network. (Remember, the earlier blog – we only pay $13 a month for unlimited data with WIND.) We did the same thing to Jack’s phone. My phone carries the number that came with the Magic Jack and Jack’s phone is our old home phone number – hmm, we really need to switch that.

Meanwhile back at the Wi-Fi quest, it took us about a week and a half to get internet installed and the router working. A sigh of relief. We could set up the real phone and now hear that pleasant ring when folks in the USA call us. We put an Italian adapter at the end of the plug, plugged the phone into electricity and into the Magic Jack. Hey, what’s that smell? Burning plastic – the $9.99 phone was fried by the Italian current. Don’t ask me why, just don’t bring one.

We ran out and bought a cheapy Italian phone. Now the cheapy Radio Shack phone was small, white, plastic and ugly. Check out the form and function cheapy Italian phone.

Note the lines! Feel the beauty! It cost $9.99 and is cute and didn’t melt. Yeah. We have a phone. It works – sometimes.

In all fairness, the sound quality has a lot to do with the internet connection. At our house in Italy we have an antennae on the roof that brings us Wi-Fi from the Wi-Fi gods of the mountain. I have no idea how it works. When it is windy – which in the mountains is often – the antennae is doing dirty dancing and the reception is less than great.

There are other VOIP opportunities out there but they seem to cost more. So, even though we can’t hear you when the wind blows over the mountain, we are still happy with our Magic Jack.

For the complete commercial: http://www.magicjack.com

La Casa del Mio Bisnonno – Salvatore Guerrera

July 12, 2013August 28, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Finding My Family - Genealogy

You know how little girls imagine themselves princesses twirling at the ball? Well, I tried to imagine that but after tripping over a hoe somehow knew that my family sure as hell wasn’t royalty. It felt really special to be about 6 years old and discover I was from a long line of serfs! Hey, quit smirking – a lot of us first generation folks come from families who – well – didn’t have the proverbial ‘Pot’. Salvatore Guerrera, the patriarch of my family, was a contadino, farmer. Now, don’t think of the agri-businessman of today or even the great local organic farmer. In the Pontelandolfo church and commune records my family members are all listed as “contadino and/or bracciante” They were peasant farmers who “gave their arms work” for another person. Serfs – now that is a word we all know. Or sharecroppers – these men and women worked the land for a piece of the garden pie – a very small piece.

Over a period of 18 years, I have shared many a long and wonderful Pontelandolfesi meal with my extended Italian family. When the coffee was served, I often steered the conversation to stories about my bisnonno. The elders, his grandchildren, vaguely remembered him but really remembered the stories about him that their parents told. What was he like? Where did he live? What did he do? These alert and fun filled men and women regaled me with tales – all in the dialect of the town. I didn’t have a clue as to what they said. They knew I didn’t have a clue, but kept right on talking. Today, having taken years of Italian, I still only understand about 20% of what anyone says in dialect. Not to lose the stories, I shot lots of video tape. Much of it still needs to be translated. The ever gracious linguist, Annarita Mancini, helped by giving me some short summaries.

The central theme was that my incredibly well built bisnonno was a Robin Hood kind of guy. If the landowners weren’t sharing, he would not so subtly help the process along. One tale, set after World War I, told of great deprivation – everything of any value was used for the war or stolen by the enemy. There wasn’t a bit of food to eat or even wood to burn for heat. Salvatore Guerrera approached the landowner and asked if he could cut down a really big tree – one of the last trees. The man said, absolutely not, I’m saving that tree for myself. Salvatore looked at this incredibly tall tree and thought 50% is good enough for that uncaring @#$%$#. “Noi braccianti have provided him with much much more.” He then climbed up to the middle of the tree and began to saw. Soon the top of the tree tumbled to the ground, was chopped up and shared. No one remembers what the landowner did – but they kept remarking that their nonno was really big and really strong. Hmmmmm.

Salvatore's house 4 — Three walls are left of my great grandfather’s house.

We were led to what is left of Salvatore Guerrera’s house by his grandchildren. I could write about it but, frankly, am enjoying editing video. What follows was shot in August 1995 – the first time I saw the house with my Zia Caterina – and June 2002 when we brought my father there.

When in Rome – Eat as the… The Sushi Quest

July 5, 2013July 5, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Food - Eating In and Out!, Stops Along the Journey - Sites Off the Tourist Track

Drat that avid blog reader, Kathy Hall! She asked me the living abroad question of all questions. How do avowed foodies living in a country with such a great cooking tradition satisfy their palate’s need for diversity. Didn’t I miss Jamaican food, Thai food, French Food, Mexican Food, Ethiopian Food, SUSHI!!

images — Images of sushi flutter through my mind.

Damn, now all I think about is Sakura Sushi in Hillsborough NJ – home of the best Sushi in the tri-state area – I know it’s the best because I sample sushi everywhere. Time to be proactive and stop just dreaming about Rainbow Caviar Roll, yellowtail pieces, raw fresh scallops, spicy tuna… I googled Sushi in Campania. Whoa – there are a bunch of sushi joints in Naples. Rats – driving in and out of Naples is a harrowing experience. What to do – oh, down on the bottom of the list was a place called Sosushi in Avellino. I googled it – a franchise with 30 restaurants through out Italy. Mc Donald’s of sushi? H’mmm – stop procrastinating. Avellino – we have never been to Avellino and it’s only about 45 minutes away. Let’s go! And with that the Sushi Quest began.

Circo Acquatico comes to Pontelandolfo

July 2, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Stops Along the Journey - Sites Off the Tourist Track

The CIRCUS is COMING!
TA TA TA DAAAA TA DAAAA

Remember those one ring circuses that scurried into small home towns across America? The one elephant, two-horse shows that still bedazzled us with its newness. The traveling small tent show may have died in America but thanks to families like the Frimers it is alive and well in Italy.

My interest and excitement was piqued when the signs appeared on the main intersections of Pontelandolfo. Signs that showed a scantily clad damsel fighting off the sharpened teeth of a great piranha – or was it a catfish?

“In less than a week,” the signs taunted, the incredible Frimer Acquatic Show would be setting up shop in Ex Campo Calcetto. Not wanting to forget the where and when, I snapped a photo of the signs.

Are there different names on each poster?

Friday, from deep within the kitchen of our all stone house I heard a voice so loud I dropped the tomatoes. I raced out side. Speakers topping an old blue van – the new circus parade – were encouraging us all to experience the wonders of the circus tomorrow. OK, I didn’t understand a word of what they said, but I bet they were touting the wonders of the circus. Finally, it was Saturday – the day the circus was setting up its tent. After stopping at my favorite salumeria for the best mortadella in the world, I found the most incredible gift under my windshield wiper. Two discount coupons for that night’s performance! It was fate. Jack and I could see the world’s greatest Frimer Acquatic Show for only 7 euro each!. I could barely contain myself. The performance was at 9:15 PM. It was 4:00 PM. How could I wait five hours????

Only 7 euro – about $9 for live entertainment.

We got into the village at 8:30 – I wanted a good seat and went to the Campo di Calcio – no tents? Cripes, did I read it wrong? Where is the circus? We walked back to a local bar and noticed people heading towards the piazza behind the the village center – the what I thought was a parking lot that holds the recycling bins. We started to follow them – I heard music – circus music! We were getting closer. Like Conestoga wagons of the wild west, blue tractor-trailer sized trucks had encircled the piazza. A line had formed in front of the ticket counter – people were clutching the same coupons I had. The ticket booth was in a truck and about 6 feet off the ground. Folks were standing on tippy toe to hand their coupons and money to the overly made up but pretty young ticket taker girl. She suddenly stopped taking money. No! Were they sold out? No, she was out of change and no one had any. We waited about 5 minutes for a navy blue suited burly roustabout to appear with some change that he pirated from the closest bar. Whew, we were getting closer. I paid and then we looked for the entrance. The tent! I see the tent! Jack pointed out that the tent we used for picnics was only slightly smaller. I scoffed at him – this is the world’s greatest circo acquatico. When we enter the space I am sure the grandeur of the circus will unravel itself before us. The burly blond ticket taker ripped our tickets and we walked down the path to the tent. It was small! I counted about 100 K-Mart style old white plastic chairs set up in 3/4 round – for you non theatre folks that means that the performance space had chairs on three sides of it. The performance space was pretty small but look there is a large yellow curtain behind it.

Could the piranha be behind the curtain?

I bet that lifts up and we see the tanks of water. People slowly filed in. The first night audience was small – about forty of us. Jack and I were probably the oldest, but we have young hearts! There were two men in their fifties or 60’s at the light and sound boards. They looked vaguely familiar – like the dads of the ticket seller and burly blonde ticket taker guy. The music changed, the lights dimmed and the ringmaster appeared. He welcomed us all and a clown – who kind of looked like the ticket taker and light board guy – came out and started an old vaudeville shtick – it doesn’t matter which one. Just know you have seen the Marx Brothers do it – it involves kicks in the butt. All laughed and the music changed to great entrance rumblings.

Suddenly, dressed all in black and juggling madly, a handsome young man appeared. Wait, he looks familiar – it was the ringmaster! He juggled clubs, balls, tennis rackets, rings – the usual and when he dropped them all applauded and laughed. He raced off to the applause of tiny hands.

The clown skirted in with a baby carriage – the baby cried – he picked up the baby. He showed us the baby. The baby squirted water on all of us – including my new white pocket-book. Well it was Il Circo Acquatico. H’mm he kind of looks like the ringmaster/juggler guy too.

Next a chef appeared with a stack of plates – wait he looks familiar. Ahh, the burly blonde guy who took the tickets. Plates, rods, balance – you’ve seen that schtick before too. Nary a plate broke, all were spinning madly and the audience cheered.

Burly ticket taker guy is also the balancing plate guy.

A platform was wheeled out and a sexy lady with the usual boobs on a plate outfit appeared. She bent into a back bend and walked up the platform steps on her hands. Wait – she looks familiar? Ahhh the girl in full make-up who sold the tickets! She was a modified contortionist – think yoga and gymnastics with a little double jointed tossed in for good measure. It hit me. Everyone looks alike! They must be a traveling circus family.

Sexy ticket taker and contortionist gal.

What could top a contortionist! The bored five year old member of this talented circus family that’s what. She came out with silver hula hoops and whirled them on her waist, feet and arms. Since she couldn’t be seen above the ring wall, we all stood to watch this tiny tot perform. I figure she is probably on the payroll for tax purposes and needs to do something entertaining. Or the family insists that all earn their keep.

Soon the juggler/ringmaster was back dressed as a magician assisted by ticket taker/contortionist lady. How did she escape from that sack after being locked in a black box? How did he get from the audience into the sack? Whoa! Cheers went up.

Damn, more water from Il Circo d’Acqua – this time the clown tried to clean the audience and sprayed us all. Ugggg

During intermission most everyone exited to go and lood at the tank of piranha and something else that I couldn’t translate. Maybe the contortionist/ticket taker/ magician assistant girl climbed in the tank? We missed that.

Take filled with creepy fish has its own truck.

We decided to watch the show happening by the popcorn and candy corn vendor – who was obviously the mom, sister or aunt of the performers. Hoping to be discovered by the fathers/uncles who were in charge of sound and lights I entertained the kids around me with my silly faces and freeze game. Well, I thought it was entertaining.

Burly ticket/dish guy is also the hot fire guy.

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the music was foreboding. With muscles bursting, burly ticket taker/ twirling plate guy appeared juggling fire! Soon the fire was in his mouth and racing up his arms. He burned up the audience with pyrotechnic surprises. He actually stroked his arms with lit wands – we could see the charcoal black swaths cut over his biceps. The women went ugggg, the kids went “can’t wait to get home and try that mom”.

Indian Jones music floated through the tent. Roustabouts – the burly fire eating guy and clown guy – dragged out big mysterious black boxes. The frame of a coffin was set center stage. Clown guy returned dressed all in black. He became the animal trainer guy and slowly opened a box. Shouts of fear went up as he took out a four bazillion foot white snake. Screams from all as he walked closer and closer to the audience! The magician/juggler/ringmaster guy pulled out a huge unhappy iguana. They kept pulling out creepy crawly things and bringing them into the audience so all could see these fierce creatures. Adults pulled back. Small children reached up to touch them. I gotta tell ya, snakes for a finale – now that is something I have never seen.

This revealing of a different snakes and having them dance, hiss and crawl went on for about fifteen minutes. Ticket lady/contortionist/magician’s assistant girl came out sexily dressed and stepped into the coffin. She laid frozen still as all of the snakes were plopped on her and slithered all over her. I must admit, I got a little turned on from this – don’t tell my husband. But no – I don’t want to try it.

H’mm slithering serpents! A devilish good time.

The crowed cheered, the lights came up and the incredible cast of four bowed for all. Ooops, I forgot the little girl – cast of five. Their versatility is what makes them incredible. Everyone doubled and tripled so that the show could go on.

This is a theatrical family that is doing what it loves to do in small towns across Italy. Frankly, I am a little jealous. Wafting nostalgic over my children’s theatre touring days, I wondered if I was too old and feeble to buy a van and tour a one woman show…

Don’t Tell – I Went to an Italian Tupperware Party!

June 28, 2013June 29, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Food - Eating In and Out!, Practical Matters - Living Abroad

Remember that scrumptious ravioli Carmela made for my birthday? (Check the May 15 blog – Pumpkin Ravioli.) She used an incredible Tupperware ravioli mold – former – thingy. I had to have one.

The Tupperware Lady told me that they don’t ship the stuff made in the USA here – cost too much. There are Tupperware factories in Belgium, France and Portugal. H’mm do they make special EU stuff that we can’t get – like great large ravioli former things????

Bye for now! I’ve got ravioli to make.

Cell Phones – Can’t Leave Home Without Them!

June 26, 2013April 27, 2016 by midgeguerrera, posted in Practical Matters - Living Abroad

The cell phone. Remember life without a cell phone? I do! One day on my way to work in Red Bank, NJ, I got a flat tire. Hey, of course I KNEW how to change a tire but I was in a suit and didn’t WANT to change the tire. So how did I get help? In my high heels, I tottered down the street to the first house and at 7:30 in the morning banged on the door. Yup, I wasn’t afraid, serial killers didn’t enter my mind and obviously didn’t enter the mind of the woman who answered the door and called a gas station for me. Then I got a cell phone. Now, I realize that I can’t possibly navigate life’s curvy roads without a cell phone.

Three months in Italy with out a cell phone was out of the question. We weighed the options. One was to buy a cheap – no data – phone and a local pay-for-minutes plan. Nah! Impossible! Truth be told we are addicted to our iPhones. Want a restaurant? Turn to the Yelp app. On the road and need a hotel? Turn to Hotel.com. Lost? Pull out the google map and chart your way. All my contacts, Facebook friends, Dropbox folders and more are on my iPhone. What to do? How much will it cost for a data plan? The one thing we knew was that we were not going to buy the president of Verizon Wireless a new yacht by enrolling in their “cost you your first born child” international plan. We had done that for short trips and relied on wi-fi zones to call each other through the free Viber interface. We also know lots of folks with iPads and iPhones that use Apple’s FaceTime. Verizon had been notorious about not unlocking phones on contract so that you could install a pay-as-you go sim card. I was ready to go the mattresses with the Verizon Global folks to demand a more equitable plan for our three month stay. Was I surprised and delighted to discover that Verizon had changed its policy and would unlock our iPhones. I put our Verizon account on hold for three months and we left the country with unlocked phones.

2013-05-06 19.09.32 — We raise a glass of thanks to our able guide in all things Italian – Annarita.

Meanwhile, Annarita Mancini, the best and most efficient person a traveler could have on their side, investigated pay-as-you go cell phone services. Sit down – you are not going to believe this. For ten, not one hundred, but ten euros a month per phone, Jack and I were able to have unlimited 3G, 400 texts (I am not an avid texter so this is enough for a life time) and 400 minutes of talk time. So, for about $26 a month we get approximately the same bloody service for which we now pay Verizon $170 a month! How can that be?!

Don’t believe me? Check out the web site:

http://www.wind.it/it/privati/ricaricabile/chiamate_messaggi_e_internet/all_inclusive_big/?gclid=CJ3bmbfTgbgCFc1e3godcmUA0Q

Sym card is the size of my pointer finger nail.

Our service is through a company called Wind. Now there have been some snafooos. When we bought our new sim cards and swapped out the Verizon card we weren’t sure what to do next. Jack always says, when in doubt hard reboot! We did that by sticking a paper clip in the tiny iPhone reset hole. I bit my lip and did some good luck incantations. Unnerving. We turned the phones back on and one worked perfectly. Jacks phone was in pazzo land. My Italian wasn’t good enough to understand Wind support. Annarita!!!

Morcone - built into the mountain. — Morcone – built into the mountain.

Over lunch in Morcone, the nearby village that requires the legs of a goat to walk through, Annarita stayed on hold with Wind, made pushy noises and got Jack’s phone functioning. The one annoying Wind security thing is that every time you shutdown your phone or runout of battery you have to re-enter your million number Wind security code. Jack says I’m lying it isn’t a million numbers only four. OK, he wins but I didn’t pick the four and I don’t remember the four. The first month the service was great. There were only a few spots on the mountain where we didn’t have ‘bars’. We also don’t get service in our kitchen. Of course the bones of the house are medieval and all thick rock. The kitchen is an all rock internal room. I don’t think Verizon or AT&T could sneak through those thick walls either.

Month two arrived and we had to pay for the second months service. We tried to do it online. It couldn’t be done by us. To set up an on-line account, you need a Codice Fiscale number – think social security. Annarita bought our sim cards before we got here. Thinking my Codice Fiscale was bad or I had someone else’s, I kept cursing at the computer and the Italian government. Later, we discovered that Annarita had registered the sim card with her name and number. Not a big deal. You can go to almost any Tobacchi (cigarette and assorted stuff shop) or Edicolo (newspapers and magazine shop) and top off your account. We did that and all was well – we thought. Jacks service continued, mine stopped. Eeeeeeh. Annarita!!! She came and rebooted my phone. Now why didn’t I think of that! Once again all is brilliant in cell phone land.

Question – why is it so much cheaper here for cell phone usage? All I could think of was, this is a smaller country and we only bought service for Italy not all of Europe. But hey, I ain’t calling anyone in Greece. Wait a second! Jack and I are going to London for five days. My brilliant niece Alexandra Rose is graduating from the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Arts. We are hopping over to see her in a play and graduation review. How much more than our ten euros will Wind charge for calls outside of Italy? Two Euros a day ($2.60) that is how much more. For that we get 30 minutes of call time, 30 text messages and 30 MB of internet data. That extended plan is good for all of the European Union and the United States. We have learned to turn off the data on our iPhones when traveling and just use wi-fi zones so the 30 MB won’t be an issue.

Next time you travel to Italy, unlock that phone and let you voice fly with Wind!

Streets Closed for Calcio!

June 23, 2013 by midgeguerrera, posted in Uncategorized

After a super supper at the local restaurant, “È n’ata Cosa” (cda santa caterina, 82027 Pontelandolfo), we drove into town. Oops, I need to pause the story for a second. All the foodies are wondering what we ate and how much we spent.

Thinking it would be a light food night, while reading the menu, we started with a dish of olives and a bottle of the local Aglianico wine. Our thought of sharing a simple pizza margherita was abruptly erased. The waitress described the “frutta del mar” – mussels, clams, calamari, other fish I can’t remember, oil and garlic – and we too were hooked. Both of us ordered the seafood on linguine and were not disappointed. We added salad and a bottle of aqua frizzante to round out the meal. Oh the cost – only 30 euros. That is about 40 bucks for lots of fresh seafood, a bottle of great wine and more.

Back to the story, We wandered down towards Piazza Roma for an after dinner drink or two at one of the outdoor bars. We love sitting outside and people watching. We only grasp about 20% of the conversations – mostly spoken in dialect – but it is great fun to play Harriet the Spy and listen in on the plots and twists of everyday life. Oops, Jack just looked over my shoulder and “ahhemed” – OK, OK, I’ll drop the papal “we”, I’m the only one that eavesdrops on folks. We drove into town chatting away about the great meal when blinking lights and a temporary fence barred the way.

Whoa – a police barricade had closed off access to the piazza. We screeched to a halt, were detoured to a one way street and wondered what was happening. Screams and shouts could be heard through our closed car windows. Was that fear? Could something heinous be happening. I looked at Jack and knew we had to get closer and find out what was going on. He looked at me with that “are you pazzo?” expression. We parked near the town recycling bins – far enough away to be safe and close enough to hear the sounds. The screams turned into a wail – the piteous kind of forlorn wail that could only mean one possible thing in a small Italian town – some evil team scored a goal against Italy.

We rounded the corner and could see a movie screen set up in front of Bar 2000. The street was closed off, picnic tables filled the street and about a hundred people were gathered watching a calcio match of Italy versus Brazil.

What a great marketing strategy for the bar! I asked my cousin if the town charged the bars for closing the street – a potential additional income stream. She didn’t think so. Then I remembered I had to stop thinking like an American. People of all ages from babies in strollers to great grandads were enjoying the cool night air together. All the town had to do was put up a fence and a community event could be created.

We watched for a moment or two and walked the half a block to the next bar. There, a flat screen TV was perched on an outdoor bar tuned to the same game. A smaller but no less vocal crowd watched the game – or is that a match? We stood there for a while too, adding our cheers, jeers and sighs to the sounds of the crowd.

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