John:  Here we are at customs on our way to pass into Italy.  We are in the DMZ between the "passa-porta" check and  the customs gate. Looks like these Italiano guards are hassling the bus in front of us, ay Dick?

Dick:  Definitely so. A guard just finished on the the bus and descended sporting a machine gun.

John:  These guys don't fool around. Actually, Dick, they gave you a hard time with your passport also.  It looked like they weren't going to let you through for a second.

Dick:  It seems like they thought it might have been forged or something.  Apparently I've got a newer style passport which confuses people. 

John:  That doesn't help, I think these guards might be confused enough on their own.  Well, looking east, how's Italy look?

Dick:  Oh, not too bad. It looks a lot like France to tell you the truth.

John:  Well, you're looking at France, Italy's over there.

Dick:  Well, in that case I guess it... I guess it still looks a lot like France. 

John:  "Oui". I don't know if we're across the border officially yet as we're between the two gates.  If we are, then perhaps I should start saying "Si".  Si Signori... My Italian is improving.  I've already mastered the most important phrase, which is "Dov'e il gambinetti".  That replaces "Ou est la toilette".  I won't have to look for a bathroom.  Up... we're moving up... Here we go into Italy, that is if they let Dick in.

Ventimigilia, Italy
Location: OUTSIDE A SUPERMARKET

John:  First post from Italy... I'm waiting for Dick to come out of the supermarket across the street.  There are people everywhere.  Millions of people walking on the street going right, going left.  No specific pattern, they're like insects.  They're everywhere.  It's a variation on chaos, but strangely seems appropriate and kind of synchronized. 

Since I've been sitting here, guarding the bikes while Dick gets the food, about five Italianos have approached to look up close at the bikes.  I watch discretely from the side observing.  They look at the packs, the handlebars, the stickers I've started putting on mine.  They touch the wheels and the seat.  Heavy on the touching. Two guys almost knocked the bikes over... now two others are looking at them from a distance.  There's another  across the street looking at them.  It seems the bikes are fascinating.   This is completely different from the atmosphere in France.  There the people were aloof and didn't real care much about us or the bicycles. 

I stopped at a newstand and bought a candy bar.  I thought it cost 1000 lira.  But I got back 4000 lira change from my 1000 liras.  Who was I to argue, I can't even talk to them (unless I need to go to the bathroom).  If this is the way the economy works here no wonder they're having financial problems.

And, here comes Dick himself.

Dick:  It took forever.  This woman in front of me had two entire shopping carts full of goods.  She must have done her monthly shopping.  The line goes all the way to the back of the store.  But, I got what we needed for dinner, some pasta and some wine too. 

John:  Well, you've got to check out this town.  It's crazy... and jammed.  I like it.  It's got personality.

* * * *

Saturday, June 5
Location: ON THE ROAD

John:  Listen to this... gee, on cue it was supposed to thunder.  There's... a big storm approaching. (THUNDER) There!  Did you hear it?  Big dark clouds.  Very ominous.  All the little old Italian people who are habitually sitting on the side of the road took off for cover.  They're smart.  They know it's going to pour.  No more hanging out under these big trees. 

Dick:  We're in a little hilltop village.  We had to do much climbing to get here.  John has had several flat tires.  So we stopped at this little roadside park and had a bite to eat and now we're confronted with another natural disaster. (THUNDER) And, quite the lightning and thunderstorm brewing. (THUNDER) (LAUGHS)

John:  It must have been raining a lot around here, we passed a tributary of the river and there was gushing white water.  The clouds are almost directly above us.  We'll probably go hang out in the bar across the way.  Although, we just had two beers.  We were thirsty and sweaty, you know, from climbing.

To get up to this point, it was quite a steep climb.  It just kept going and going and we're not even to the top yet.  But, we asked an old Italian man how much further and we think he said that we were at the top or near the top.  Didn't he?  He said we'd be going downhill.

Dick:  Osallo.

John:  Osallo?  What's that?

Dick:  That's the name of the town at the top.

John:  Oh, Osallo, not near, so I guess there's more to go.  The guy came right over to us and was quite friendly.  The problem was that we couldn't speak Italian.  We didn't have a clue as to what he was saying... that didn't stop him though.  Language, a major drawback thus far in the trip.

Last night we had some problems ordering dinner.  Dick ended up with Ravioli with some actual meat in it. Explaining he wanted some "formaggio" or cheese ravioli, the waitress then came over with grated cheese to put on top. As the storm passes... actually it looks like the storm will miss us and pass off to the side. We may not even get wet.

Dick:  ...or electrocuted.

John:  Yes, there is quite a bit of... oooh, quite a bit of lightning over there.  Oh oh, it's close though.  Passing to our west maybe?  Well, it may almost be time for a brew inside that bar.

* * * *

Alexandria, Italy
Location: CAMPING

John:  Well, I guess you just missed it, but a second ago a bunch of boisterous Italians were singing something... (SINGING) Hear them?  They're drunk I guess.  It's Saturday night, June 6th... June 5th... whatever Saturday night is.  Another choice camping spot.  This time right by... (CAR NOISE)... the road.

We had been searching for some time for a campground and were having big problems finding one.  We asked the "Polizia" or "Carabinieri", whatever they call themselves, "Dov'e camping?"Where is camping?"  At one point they said, "Vengti kilometers".  I studied numbers so I knew he meant twenty kilometers.  that's about 12-13 miles.  So... (MOTORSCOOTERS) Damn!  Those motorscooters.

Ultimately we arrived at the campground which is actually pretty nice, outside of the traffic.  There's a tennis court and a swimming pool.  There's a nice bar... (MOTORSCOOTERS).  Uhh, these motorscooters are everywhere. (BUZZING NOISE) It seems that in Italy there are millions of these scooters that zip all over the place.  In and out of traffic. (ZIPPING) They're even inside the campground. I'd say there's at least one for every car, maybe more.

Well, Italy is just a completely different place... the people especially. (MOTORSCOOTERS) You can... (MOTORSCOOTERS) Christ!  He's parking next spot over... (MOTORSCOOTERS). And, we're actually cooking pasta and spaghetti sauce.

Dick:  "Vino, Seniori?"

John:  "Si". I've got "molto vino" in my coffee cup.

Dick:  I'm off to find my fortune in the "gabinetti."

John:  All the bathrooms are below par.  This campground here... with the beautiful pool and tennis courts, has no toilets or urinals.  But it does have a hole in the ground with a grid for you to put your feet while you squat over the hole.  And no toilet paper.  In all of Italy, and France too, no toilet paper.  Except in the bars.  Seems that bar bathrooms are beautiful.   They have toilets.  So, I've been stealing toilet paper from them because none of the skuzzy campgrounds have any.  I took a big wad today at our drink stop.  Of course, the most amusing was finding out that in France they actually call the bathrooms, "Pissoirs"... a place appropriate to take a piss. I wonder if the term, "to take a piss" is derivation of pissoir?

Our distance totals today were the high for the trip thus far, 68 miles...

Dick:  Wow. Let's hear it for 68 miles.

John:  Oh, also we were in this town Aqui Terme where we were quite the curiosity.  We happened to show up right during the evening "walk".  It seems that every evening, around 7 or so, everyone gets dressed up and goes out on the street to walk around. It's a cultural activity.  The older people don't have to walk though, they just sit there and talk to each other. 

So, since they were out and about, they all stopped and looked at us.  They looked at Dick's helmet. They looked at my little bike computer.  Some guy was so excited to learn that I was from New York that he just kept saying, "New York!  New York!"  He shook his head a lot. From side to side.  "New York!"  Like he couldn't believe it.  (MOTORSCOOTER) Please can't there be peace.  Please, I can't take it anymore.  No more motorscooters.  Please... (MOTORSCOOTER). Another one.  I can't believe it.  It's supposed to be promenade time. 

Dick has returned from the gabinetti.  Was the bathroom clean enough for you, Dick?

Dick:  They must not have cleaned that place for three years.

John:  Well, that would be better than four years.  So far, I find Italy quite amusing.  I think the people are intriguing.  They're talkative and exuberant.  Makes it kind of fun. Impressions on Italy so far, Dick?

Dick:  Well, I must say the roads and highways have been very good.  Another thing is that Italy and the Italians seem real big on tunnels. 

John:  Impressions, I mean, about the people, the culture.

Dick:  Let me see, Italy... it's been kind of fun, the last couple of days, getting used to a new place, the language and the new menus.  I think there are a lot more things that I'll be able to eat.  I think I'm clearer on how to ask for vegetarian food. 

* * * *

Pavia, Italy - Sunday, June 6
Location: AT THE HOTEL

John:  Dick will probably be laid up here a day or two as he drank some water that we have now learned is poisoned. How much did you drink?

Dick:  One glass.

John:  One glass full of poisoned water.  Dick swallowed the water in total abandon.  We know the water is poisoned because in the room next door is a pizzaman who drank it and has been puking all day... do you know his name?

Dick:  Giuseppi...  I feel fine.  Where's my journal, I've got to update it. 

John:  I always wanted to meet someone named Giuseppi.  He's on vacation and is a professional pizza person.  He gave us the run down on pizza in Italy.  You see they give you these little personal pies that you can order with anything you like on...

Dick:  Hand me that glass.

John:  You're not going to drink more, are you?

Dick:  I think Giuseppi is full of it... I'm thirsty.

John:  He's been sick since 2:30 and didn't have anything to eat all day.  Plus, didn't you hear the guy who owns the hotel say he thought the water was bad.  If the owner says the water is bad, it's bad... really, Dick.

Personally, I boiled some water on the little camp stove and drank that.  But Dick here was too thirsty. Despite the warning, you still drank that tainted brown water.  I better take a shower now because later you're going to be hogging the bathroom puking.

Dick:  The water wasn't brown. Besides I really feel fine.

John:  But didn't Giuseppi say that it took an hour to hit. You've got 45 minutes left.

Dick:  Yeah, an hour... I don't believe anything he said, boy. He didn't even sound like a real pizzaman.  He was talking about ingredients to put on the pie and didn't mention anchovies.  All Italians put anchovies on their pizza.

John:  Don't disillusion me!  Here I thought I was talking to a real pizzaman.

Well, as we wait for regurgitation via Dick, let me just say that we're in Pavia, or "Padua" as they call it.  We weren't going to stay here but as we headed out of town, we asked the gas station attendant, "Dov'e camping?"/Where is there camping?   And, he said, "Non, Non" then some Italian gibberish.  So we turned around... you're looking a little blue there, Dick. Feel like puking yet?

I can hear Giuseppi in the hall running to the bathroom.  Do you hear him?  Wait, where are you going?  To the bathroom?   Feeling ill?

Dick:  I'm going to take a leak. All right?!!

* * * *

Monday, June 7
Location: WHILE RIDING

John:  (WIND) On the road now, biking our way across Italy and into the hearts of the Italian heritage.

Dick:  You're getting a little melodramatic.

John:   We need to build the drama.  We're located about... well, at this point, I don't really know exactly.  For geography lovers, this is the fertile Po River Valley stretching across the northern ridge of Italy.   From Genova to Venezia.  Or Genoa to Venice as we Americans say.  We're going over another of these irrigation ditches which run parallel to the road.  Heavy agriculture here.   There are a lot of marshy areas... well, it looks like marsh... but it's actually green foam on ditches.

The Italian roads around here are really confusing.  Even though the terrain is absolutely flat, the road doesn't go straight.  It's like a maze.  Roads make 90 degree turns in the middle of nowhere.  Apparently it's because the roads were designed to skirt property lines.  Luckily we've got a map.  The routine is consistent... you make a right, you go three turns, you make a left... and then you get to a peanut-sized town.  And Dick, for awhile there you thought we weren't actually making any progress.

Dick:  Obviously.  We weren't.  We were on these rinky-dink roads of questionable quality and were literally almost going around in circles. It's quite frustrating.

John:  But, actually Dick, according to the map, we're making progress...  although not a beeline from A to B... well, actually 20 lines would about do it.  You need to navigate by following the signs naming the towns the roads pass through. 

Wait... Oh oh... here's another sign.... and another decision.  A fork in the road.  Which direction to go?  Oh wait, I know this one.  No need for the map.  We go to the town of Cologna then Venetta.  That's it.

You know, everyone of these towns ends in a vowel.  Look at the sign!  Maybe twelve towns are named.  Verenella, Zabattia... No... Wait a minute!  There's a town on that sign called Fabion.  There's no vowel at the end of that!

Dick:  No... look, John. They ran out of space on the sign.

John:  Yeah, you know, you're right.  It's right on the edge.  It looks like they ran out of space on the board.  It's probably Fabionianianionio.

Look out for the school bus coming. Look at all those kids hanging out the window.  Look... every head is looking at us.  What the matter?!!!  Are we from Mars or something?  

That kid almost fell out the school bus window looking at us.  Pretty funny?

Dick:  Yes.  They were all watching us.  We're quite the entertainment for these little Italian school kids.

John:  Well, we always like to put on a good show for them too by giving a little wave or smiling and sometimes even saying "Bon Giorno".

Today we're heading to Cremora.  Or is it Cremona?   No, Cremora is the coffee creamer.  Cremona is famous for violins.  Isn't that what you were saying, Dick? ... Dick?  Yell louder, Dick.  He's behind me about 20 feet ...as we pass an old farm.  And, there's chickens and a dog... (BARKING)... and kids sitting out front on a motorscooter.

So, this is one of the most scenic roads we've been on since "Champagne Country".  I guess that's corn over there.  Here comes a car. (LOUD HORN)  Damn!  These Italians always honk their horns.  It's a pain.  They're either being friendly and saying hello or want us dead.  We know they're there.  I almost fell off my bike the other day, I was so startled.  When you enter all of these Italian towns, they have signs posted that show a horn with a slash through it.  "No Horn Honking".  I guess they are aware of the honking issue.

Watch out, a dog is coming right at us, Dick!   Race him.  Dig man, dig. Wooh! ...Right there Dick.  You were almost attacked by that dog.

Dick:  Never fear, these dogs are always chained up.  No problem.

John:  He scared the hell out of me.  He came racing across the whole yard.  It didn't look like there was any rope on him at all. 

There are a lot of cyclists here in Italy.  Not on 10 speeds, only one speeders.  The women, in particular, use them as a primary means of transportation.  They keep their seats too low though so their knees come up high.  The problem is that the women always wear dresses.  When people come from the other direction, the women hold their skirts down so you can't look up their crotch.  But... you know, speaking as a bicyclist, if they just raised their seats a little bit, their knees wouldn't come up so high and there'd be nothing to see. 

San Giovanni, Italy -  Tuesday, June 8
Location:  AT A BAR

John:  It's noon now.  We're sitting on the front porch of a bar in San Giovanni, Italy and we're drinking little glasses of white wine, "vino bianco". They're about a quarter per glass. We wouldn't have known how cheap the wine was, as we were ordering beer, but the bartender misunderstood my perfect Italian and returned with wine.  I actually asked for two beers.

We're escaping the heat.  Rode about 20 miles so far.  But it's hot, man.  Everyone else is escaping the heat too.  It seems at lunch time all the locals, who work on farms in this Po Valley agricultural district, stop and have a glass of wine.  Then they go home and have their big meal of the day.  Then around four o'clock or so they have some more wine and then go back to work.

You ever notice, Dick, that men and women here in Italy are never really together?

Dick:  I never really noticed it but that is a very good point.  It does seem to be true.  All the men hang out in the bars and the women just do little things by themselves, whether it's talking or sitting on the stairs or...

John:  ...washing the door stoop.

Dick:  ...or buying bread in the marketplace.  Good point.

John:  But the population here in the countryside seems a bit tamer compared to the wild crazy guys in Ventimigilia.

Dick:  I think this is a more rural town.

John:  They're friendly though...

Dick:  Yeah, I was accosted by a Spanish speaking traveling salesman.

John:  Selling greeting cards... he was from Argentina.  Actually, he had quite an assortment of things there that he was trying to sell. He had a comb and Band-Aids...

I had two flat tires today on my front wheel.  I think I've taken over the lead for flats from Dick so... yeah, we were sitting around some famous tourist attraction in Pavia the other night.  We didn't actually know what it was but we could tell it was famous by the pictures of it in the tourist shops.  We were sitting down to have a beer when this bartender shortchanged me.  Trying to rip me off because I was wearing my "Made in NY" tee shirt.  And, I said, "Cinque mille lira!?", like beers cost that much?  And, he said what did you give me a 10 or a 5,000?  "Dieci", Ten!  Bastard!!!  He reneged and gave me the correct change, luckily, because that was the extent of my vocabulary.

So, according to the map now, we're almost in Venice.

Dick:  I wonder if we can just bike right in or do we need a boat with all those canals?

John:  Well, the map shows a bridge. I just can't grasp this canal concept. Are there no roads?

Dick:  It's just canals, I think.

John:  That's weird. What, do people stay indoors all the time? It just doesn't make sense.

Dick:  I guess we'll see.