Month: April 2022

Well … come on everyone knows I am going to have some problems and some confusion in my newest (mis)adventure here in northern Italy.

Consider several months ago in Switzerland.

From falling off a train in Bern, riding around Thun on the wrong bus trying to get to football practice.  Getting off at the wrong train station (several times) …. once in the rain in Fribourg.  Getting lost in a tunnel below the Luzern train station and so on and so forth.

Look it’s a new (old) me – things have to be easier in Italy ….. right?

My host Paolo has taken me to the “City Center” of Varese and I decide that it is time to venture out on my own into this interesting area.  Come on, it’s only a few blocks from where I am staying.

I have memorized the route to a bar the Varese Gorillas frequent (imagine that).  At least I think I have.

Honestly I was not going to the Gorilla’s bar ”Te Capi”.   I just wanted to explore a little bit of my new hometown!  Really, I mean it … we have practice tonite so beer drinking is not on the schedule today (now maybe another time I might cruise to “Te Capi” and have a birra or ten.  But not today.

Well, anyway on my way through the alleyway I thought was the way to “Te Capi” – I just can’t find my landmark (the bar) – but no big deal.

Just stay on the same alleyway and I can’t get lost.   Well, maybe not until I decide to branch off to see some interesting shops and restaurants off of my course.  So … make a decision.  Turn left to what looks like some cool places.

Maybe… just maybe I should have turned around and gone home right then and there.

Nah!

I hang a left … take some cool shots of the area and drop my phone.  Yup, dropped the phone and broke the screen … you il stupido!

Obviously that would be aggravating enough – but now I am overseas and a little bit more irritating.  Can still take pictures … I imagine the phone works but have no way of knowing because I don’t have an overseas plan.

No matter because I am not lost.   All I know is that when I return I should only make a right hand turn to get back out of the City Center and home.  Broken phone or not.  Sounds really easy … right??

Not so fast Kemosabe (will I get cancelled for that?)

There are several cool restaurants, shoe and sneaker stores – and the prices are really very low in Italy (that won’t be the case in a few weeks when I get to Switzerland)!

Here’s a little tidbit my friends – Bermuda is the most expensive place to live in the world …Switzerland is second!

Somehow get flipped around like only an idiot (dumbass) like me can do.  Decide it’s time to get back home … a broken phone is bad enough.  Just follow the plan.  You find your alleyway and hang a right and bingo back home.

Now, that was a great strategy.  But, somehow didn’t work out that way.

Made a right hand turn on what I thought was the correct street.  The operative word is “thought”.  Somehow went down the wrong alleyway.

This “City Center” area is truly a warren (college word) of alleyways and narrow connectors with a lot of tight one-way streets.  It is loaded with all kinds of apartments, shops, museums, barbers (there are barbers everywhere Varese – not that I need a haircut).

Well strangely everything does look the same – how would you know dumbass American (??) – you’ve never been there before!

So, I wander around … and wander around … and wander around.  Ducking in and out of alleys – thinking more than once I had found “my alleyway” for an hour.

I know I passed the beautiful Bell Tower at least five times!  I swear that is the truth!

So, how can you ask someone how to get to the opposite side of town … when you don’t even know your address or speak the language.  Yup, dumbass you will die in the alleyways of Varese and be buried in a Pauper’s Grave in Italy (I have good insurance and the “Boss” will make some serious cash!)

Well, I have 60 Euros in my pocket … at least I will die with a full stomach.

I do have sixty Euros in my pocket and I have seen many restaurants, so at least I can survive for a little while.  Maybe someone will find me by accident!

I navigate back thru the narrow alley (these streets are all unnamed by the way) to the Bell Tower and decide on a new tactic of trying to find my way back from that piazza by using a circular pattern.

After about another fifteen or twenty minutes I am seeing some familiar shops and restaurants … well yeah… ”no shit Dick Tracy” you’ve been wandering around for an hour and you have seen many things over and over again.

Then, I hear a familiar voice behind me.  It’s one of the Gorilla players … the “Viking.”  We have already become friends.  We talk and I explain my situation and what happened.

The “Viking” has that look in his eye (“What a dumbass” look).  He doesn’t say it.

Five minutes later the “Viking” helps me escape the City Center alleys … I am out and on my way home.

I might just rename him “Columbus” since he navigated me out of “City Center.”  Oh sorry I guess he never existed because he got cancelled.

Will I do it again? … oh yeah!  Just be more careful.

Hah, what a life!

Fantastic day here in the northernmost part of Italy. My “Roomdog” Paolo somehow got us an invitation at the greatest Brunch in Europe.

Our Gorilla football cornerback Barba – a really fantastic man – picked us up and zipped us around Varese to get to this anticipated dining experience.

(From what I understand Barba = Beard) He has a beautiful one.

The breakfast-lunch affair was held at the home of Marissa and Daniel (Danny, Dan …. I was told to pick whatever I wanted to call him.) It was a tremendous spread. Daniel (Dan, Danny) made all kinds of things but his pancakes were especially good!

Stuff like bacon, beer, toast, salmon, nutella, yogurt, beer, mimosas, peanut butter, beer, Funzies (yeah you figure that one out) …and beer (did I already say beer).

What a wonderful way to spend several hours. It was funny the mix of Italian … which I know a few words…. and translations … then English which they basically all speak and translations.

One thing I have learned over the years is that some of Italian speakers are a little self-conscious of their English. It’s silly – they are very good. Compared to my minimal speaking ability in any language (including English by the way) these people are unbelievable.

Anyway after a few mimosas pretty much everyone was comfortable with telling stories … and translating for the dumbass in the room – me! I absolutely loved the visit.

By the way they have a massive young Bernese Mountain Dog – or small bear – named Polo (please forgive me Polo if I am misspelling your name because you can certainly eat me and sixty five other people in one setting.)

So after this brunch everyone sat around and decided what to do with the ugly American – oh that is me! Should we go to the mountain, the lake, the park, the bar …. run that back you said “the bar”. (Too many people are worrying about my old ass!)

My vote was evident!

So … a decision was made after a truly lengthy discussion – no not to the bar – we went to the park.

Dragging along a case of very large Poretti #5 bottled beer we spent the rest of the day throwing a football around and making sure Polo (the small bear or Bernese Mountain Dog) did not eat the small children in the area.

I found two very attractive women who could throw the ball … Marissa and Ylenia. The men not so much. Oh they were my friends from brunch!

Well … then we went to the bar in the Varese City Center area. Back to “Te’ Capi” which is the homebase of my Italian football friends the Varese Gorillas!

A few hours and several drinks later we pulled up stakes and headed home. For the second or third time here in Italy I attempted (quite vigorously) to pick up the tab … this time rebuffed by a 6’7″ bar master who said my friend Chris was taking care of it.

I honestly told this very large man (who is a basketball player for the Swiss National Team) before we even sat down that I was taking the bill. He said yeah great.

Well, it didn’t turn out that way. What a bunch of BS. He basically told me that I had no voice in the decision. Well he was at least 6-7 so I am not going to get into that!

So I discover this … for hours my friends here in northern Italy will argue, cajole, discuss what to do or where to go but they cannot make a quick decision on where to go, when to go, when to leave.

But they sure as hell can make a quick decision on preventing the dumbass ugly American from paying a bill.

Don’t worry their day is coming!

 

So, I haven’t been able to open up my blog for quite awhile.  I don’t know why, but finding out that there is something going on with Word Press (the company that operates my blog site).

But, when you try to work through their help center the people trying to help you suddenly disappear into some unknown space continuum or wormhole (now guys … that’s some pretty heavy shit from yours truly)!

Anyway, a month later now that I am up and running again I will try and catch up … because I know you are all dying to here about my (mis)adventures in football!

Trust me … it has been a blast to this point.

After landing in Milan – well, it is cloudy and it has been raining on and off.  But, theoretically it should clear up pretty soon.

I have to say last year my six month stay in Switzerland was pretty damn rainy.  My friends there told me that it was as wet a summer as they could ever remember.  I am guessing that was my fault and I just hope I am not bringing bad luck to my friends here in Italy!

Well, my friend Paolo picks me up with two of the Varese Gorilla players.  He is driving a sawed off van that is custom wrapped with the Varese Gorilla logo and colors.  Pretty damn amazing if you ask me!

Along with Paolo – who’s apartment I will be staying at – are Guido (the team’s running back) and Jack who is better known as the “Viking”.

Now the “Gorillamobile” is not the most powerful van I have ever seen.  Also realize we are at the base of the Alps so we are going to driving up and down some pretty big inclines.

But, they aren’t worried so why should I?

It’s pretty much an hour drive from Milan Malpensa Airport (shouldn’t it be a Jetport?? – never get that one.) and we get to Varese and Paolo’s apartment.

Now a little aside here.  About two weeks ago there was a fire in the building where Paolo lives.  Fortunately in the basement and no damage to the structure.

But, there is certainly a smoky odor, and the lights in the stairwell do not work.  Thanks for flashlights that are on your cellphone right??!!

Paolo is so apologetic.  But, what do I care?  I am here to see the area, don’t think I will be in the apartment except to sleep I would think.

I unload my suitcase and then Paolo takes me to the “City Center” to wander around and grab a pizza.  He knows I am dying to try a real Italian pizza.

The “City Center” is a really cool area.  Shops, restaurants all situated upon a warren of alleys, broadways and courtyards.  Beautiful place I have to say.

The pizza is “DNP” – Damn Near Perfect.

OK, now I am guessing that the day is over and I can go home to settle in and maybe wash off some jet lag.

Not so fast “Kemosabe”.  It is Guido’s birthday!  So what do we have to do.  Meet at a bar in City Center and have a birthday celebration right.

While there I met many members of the team and their girlfriends, wives and friends.  It was great.  But, come on that jet lag thing is for real.

Finally somewhere around one in the morning we get home and I can hit the sack!

Since I am writing several of these blogs after the fact – you have to know.  This one o’clock in the morning thing is not going away!

So the long day into night begins with me leaving home for Detroit Metro Airport.  Then to JFK.  From there will fly to Milan Malpense Airport in Italy.  It’s actually not that terrible.

Since you fly over night you actually have a pretty good chance of sleeping or at least resting since they turn off the interior lights.  Then you break through the clouds to find the Alps on one side and Italy on the other.  Unfortunately on this trip .. we leave an hour late from JFK – no reason given and when we land it is cloudy and rainy – so no great shot of the Alps.

The flight was somewhat entertaining though.  I exchange seats with a traveler who’s husband was in the row in front.  No big deal   … I think anyway!  Nothing is ever easy you know.  We get reseated and I am still in an aisle seat – just a row in front and on the opposite side.

Then, just before takeoff the lead flight attendant comes on over the PA system and says “We have a full flight … please remain in your assigned seats – do not change seats due to Covid mandates.”

All of my neighboring seatmates are looking at the three of us involved in this thoroughly terrible thing we did … even if it wasn’t that terrible.  They are laughing and shrugging shoulders as if to say.  “We ain’t squealing on you!”

We remain right where we are … breaking Covid regulation “#6538A sub paragraph B.”  What a crock of shit.  Knowing my history, I will probably be arrested when we land in Italy.  But what can they really do to us … dump us off the jet somewhere over the North Atlantic??

I am now sitting next to a young girl of about nine or so who is obviously traveling with her Dad (on the opposite side).  Early in the flight she dumps her juice on her pants.  Luckily, she has a bag with spare clothes.  She gets changed.  A little while later just after dining service begins she has to use the bathroom.

Cart is blocking her way to the restroom in our section so she tries to go forward to business first class or whatever the hell is in front of us and the flight attendants won’t let her go forward.  Man, to me that is really weird.  I guess Covid regulation “#$7234Ba”.

I tell her dad to let her come out on my side of the aisle because the cart is farther down the aisle.  But he refuses and says she can make it for a little while longer.  I did want to shake the guy by his lapels (“shake him by his lapels” …. That’s a pretty quaint phrase don’t you think?) because the poor kid is in tears.

The opposite aisle finally clears and the little girl gets to run to the bathroom.  She gets back to her seat … dinner is served to her.  Some sort of cheese ravioli with marinara.  She can’t cut it and the dad is getting perturbed again.  He helps her and she promptly drops a fair amount all over her sweat shirt.

Dad ain’t happy!

They get some more clothes out of the bag in the overhead bin.  She is OK again.  Then I start to think about it.  I am traveling with just my backpack in the overhead.  If anything drops on me I am totally screwed.

The juice missed me … the ravioli missed me (but not by that much) just hoping we have no more meal service or I might end up wearing wet clothes the rest of the way.  Like Kris Kristofferson sings “Why me Lord?”

Well, the good news is that nothing else happens.  We finally drop through the clouds and find the airport (why don’t they call them “jetports?”) in Milan to touch down to light rain.

They don’t arrest any of we three violators of Covid regulation “#6538A sub paragraph B.” for changing seats.  The three of us have a laugh as we proceed through Customs etc.

Italy here I come!