
When I visit Italy, and this has been my third trip in the past six years, I feel good about most everything.
“Why is that?”, I found myself wondering as I pushed Tilja through parks and paths for her afternoon nap, back here in Stockholm. I think I have found a few reasons:
People acknowledge you.
It seems very simple, but what a world of difference it makes to be somewhere where most people look you in the eye, say “hello” (or “ciao”), or even just nod your way.
If you have a child, you can count on 3 to 10 times the interaction.
You are there WITH the Italians. They draw you in, if you let them.
Italians don’t drive crazy.
They drive like experts. Not once in 10 days did I hear an argument between drivers, and rarely an unneeded beep of the car horn. The traffic is unbelievable. But there aren’t traffic jams. Cars, trucks, busses and scooters weave around each other like dancers. They stop for pedestrians in good time, let each other pass or merge without complaint.
They walk the same way.
The food.
Everywhere you go - the food is brilliant. I overheard an Italian reply to his British tourist friend’s question, “Is it any good?”, about a dish on a restaurant’s menu, by saying, “We ONLY do GOOD”
True, true.
Well… except for the meal I had at a tabacchi, once. But that was to be expected from a tourist trap like that.
The scenery and sun
You simply cannot beat ancient ruins, huge trees and gardens, huge open skies, winding streets, cliffsides, water, wicked cool classic cars, the warm temperature, and all the well dressed folk.
“No problem!” approach to problems
Italians all seem to be handymen. When we arrived at our rented room on AnaCapri, and found we hadn’t ordered a crib for Tilja, the owner came down to the room, heard our “problem”, said “No problem!”, and began to turn the armchair in the room into a makeshift bed.
Tilja never slept better.