The Search for the Perfect Pasta: Life's Greatest Quest. (Week 1: Italy)

This is a happy picture to start off this blogging post. The people in Italy are so friendly!




If you haven't been to Venice - you should go.
And don't put it off, because the entire city is sinking.
Seriously. At a rate of 2 1/2 inches a decade.
So go.

'Twas dark by the time we arrived in Venice that fateful eve.
Actually, eventful is probably more the word.




'Twas dark by the time we arrived in Venice that eventful eve.
We felt like super sleuths for finding our hotel. I think U2's song 'Where the Streets Have No Name' is about Venice.
We felt like athletic champions when we finally reached our room after climbing many many stairs. This was the first of many times that Dad almost passed out from carrying too many bags up too many flights of stairs.
But we had an amazing view and even a singing guitar man on the street below us.




We also had banana juice drinks left in our room for breakfast. This is why we pay for a B&B, I tell you, this is why we pay. It was all for the banana juice. Breakfast in a banana juice.

I think Venice was actually one of my favourite places. Only downside was the swarms of tourists. Go home, people, go home!





It actually is this crazy bizarre city built on little islands and with water, water and more water. (I know you know this, but it's truly amazing. )




The locals just have boats outside their houses. This is because it is ridiculous to pay 100 Euros for an hour long Gondola ride. Eeek! So, instead we used public transport - the Wassertaxi!




Our addiction to Italian coffee started here. It was here that we learned you take your coffee standing up at the bar if you're a real Italian. (We are not real Italians but we like to pretend) They come in for their morning shot, swig it down and off they go.
I like it.



We caught a plane from Venice to Rome. But we almost missed it because we wanted to have pizza one more time in Venice.
We then had to run for the plane. It's yet to be confirmed but Mum may have taken her shoes off to sprint.
(It's a proven method - I do it often).

Rome was crazy. We had been warned NOT to drive there and I'm SO glad we didn't. It's dangerous enough just being a pedestrian (more running involved).



Very cool to see the Colosseum, Catacombs and the Vatican. And I really liked seeing the Sistine Chapel (although the magic is a little lost when you are squashed amongst many tourists in a room that seems smaller all the time) (Go home people, go home!)



We were in search of the perfect pasta and one such night was previously mentioned in a blog here


(This is a photo of the man we'd like to forget. If anyone wants his address I found it in my pocket the other day...)



But whilst in Rome we were mostly left with an empty feeling where pasta fulfillment should have been. (Don't worry - there is a happy ending to this story).

Dad and Mum did try to lose me after we had been through the Vatican. They could have told me they wanted some alone time but instead I felt like that little kid in the supermarket all over again.
(hmmm...has that actually ever happened to me? Or am I assuming other people's experiences?)
Several people offered to take me home but I knew my parents would need me eventually. Did they think they could find their own way home? Ha!




After Rome came Florence and Pisa. We spent a night in classy accommodation in Florence. Well, it was supposed to be classy. We came back to our room later in the evening to find liquid dripped from a spot on the roof. And the room smelt rather like...umm, urine.
We called the owner/manager and he admitted he'd been having some issues with plumbing upstairs but assured us it was only water.
We assured him it wasn't.
He assured us it was.
We assured him it wasn't.
Etc.
He then picked up the towels that were under the drip and smelt them. He paused and simply said: "Could be."


The happy ending to our pasta story came whilst we were in Florence. We had amazing pasta not once, but twice in one day. Good thing I'm going back to Florence this weekend...pasta here I come!


Pisa really is all about the Tower. However, it is a very cool tower.


With much pleading I then persuaded Mum and Dad to take a detour through Cinque Terre.


(They look like it was a hard choice for them eh?)




They are five towns built into the hillside/cliffs along the coast from La Spezia. They are colourful and bright and beautiful and amazing and I will forever love this area because this is where I first had pizza covered in pesto. Also for the forementioned reasons. Oh, and because I got to dip my toes into the Mediterranean!



And then we took a train to France. But that is another story. For another day. But I shall leave this post with a few fond memories of Italy.

• Don't try and sell my a fake Prada bag. No, I don't want a fake Prada bag. Seriously, I said no. A fake Prada bag? Thanks, but no. Hmm, let me think about it.....NO!

• In Rome I took my shoe off to find...a belly button ring IN my shoe. Now, it wasn't mine - as to my knowledge, my belly button is not pierced. The stories it could tell if it could talk. Who is your owner and why are you in my shoe?

• What architect thought it would be a good idea to put the toilet in the shower? Seriously. It was more than one hotel room that our toilet was almost directly under the shower. Who does that?!

• The engraving on the wall outside the Accademia Gallery in Florence. People wait for hours to get in here to see the Statue of David.