Travel log: Genoa, Florence, and the Villa

We woke, dressed, packed, and then scurried downstairs to have breakfast. As we ate, we listened to a CD playing instrumental versions of movie themes and we had fun naming them as it shuffled through. Surprisingly, four out of five of us felt pretty good even with the Genoa pours from the night before. Michael wasn't faring so well, but he pushed on.

Unfortunately the nice, friendly, multi-lingual receptionist from Friday afternoon had left the building. She was replaced by an efficient, but unhelpful woman who wouldn't (or couldn't) assist Angela in calling the government agency. Undeterred, we grabbed a map, found our destination, and began to walk the ancient cobblestone streets.

We found the street but (!) everything was signed in Italian. Have I mentioned that not one of us speaks, reads, or understands Italian? We have ciao, prego, grazi, arrividerci, pizza (various pasta names) and vino rosa (which I think is actually Spanish). Anyway, we were at a loss. We couldn't see any address numbers and we had a street that looked boring enough to house government buildings, but we didn't know which one might be the one.

That is, until Alan turned around and said, "This might be it."

Ange and Ben went in. Michael, Alan and I went next door to get a coffee (see picture right). (Side story: I ordered a latte. The man asked me (in Italian) if I wanted it cold or hot. I finally figured out what he meant and responded, "hot" (yes, in English - what a tourist). He presented me with a glass of hot, frothy milk. Suppressing my gag reflex, I had just learned that latte means milk. I smiled, and giggled coyly and in my nicest way, asked him if I could have some caffe in my latte. He was happy to accommodate. I added one more Italian word to my arsenal. Yay!)

To make a long story (and one that's not really mine to tell) short: a very nice man assisted Ange in looking up the name of her father. He found two deceased people matching his name. In hindsight, neither could have been him, but on initial impact, Ange did think that she may have just confirmed that her father was indeed not in this world anymore. So she mourned. The man was wonderful. When he saw her tears, he left his desk and brought Ange and Ben out to the cafe where we were. He stayed away from his desk and spoke to them kindly for at least 10 minutes. He provided his private number to Ange so that she could follow-up with him on possible siblings and other information. He was amazing. I believe his kindness made the whole trip worthwhile for Ange. She has a contact who cares. The search can continue.

We only had three things on our To Do list that day. (1) Find dad. (2) Eat lunch in Florence. (3) Go to villa. So with number one as complete as it could be, we walked back to the hotel, loaded up the van and began to carve our way through beautiful Italy.

There was only one detail that we didn't have. The address of our lunch venue. The internet at the hotel was simply too slow and the computer needed rebooting too many times for us to get that information. But it couldn't be that bad, could it? We had phone numbers for the people we were meeting. We'd simply call them and ask them for the address so that we could tell the sat-nav exactly where to go.

If they had answered the phone, that would have worked.

After 3 hours of driving, we were in Florence but had no idea where to go. Tex had told me that this restaurant was very close to the Central train station. (What do you think that looks like when it's written in Italian? We didn't know either.) Because we were sat-nav dependent, we didn't have a map of Florence. Even when we did get in touch with our family and friends, they didn't have an address, so we drove around looking for a park. (Have you been to Florence? If so, you must be on the floor, laughing your heads off, because there is NOWHERE to park in Florence. In fact, you are probably giggling as you say to the screen that we're idiots for even trying, because personal cars are actually not even allowed in Florence. Fine, fine. Keep laughing.)

As aimless driver, I was at the end of my tether. But as intelligent, determined (and hungry) person, I simply parked the car illegally, and got out, leaving the others wondering if I was abandoning ship. My plan was to walk into an office building, find someone with a computer and ask them (yes, in English) what the address was. In 60 seconds I had achieved my objective, and I strutted proudly back to the van armed with the address. Sat-nav got us close. I dropped off the gang and waited for someone who knew where the restaurant was to come back so we could find a park for the big, black, beast of a van.

Daddy!

Yes, my dad and my husband strolled back to the van and we drove around for what seemed like hours. Finally we found a garage, paid out money, and walked a kilometre or two back to the restaurant.

Mommy!

Ali!

Pete!

Tex!

It was brilliant. The ten of us ate, talked, laughed, drank, enjoyed, and reveled in the magnificence of being together in Italy (see picture right, taken by my dad). What a coup! We had done it.

Action item two completely and utterly complete, all we needed to do was get back to the van, buy food and wine, pick up another rental car, and make our way to the villa (about an hour away). If I may be so bold as to take out the details. We did that. And it worked perfectly (as perfectly as organising 10 strong-willed people can go anyway). Yay sat-nav! (Yay Rootsey for programming it so well!)

Arriving at the villa was a wonderful experience. Ben's sisters, Debbie and Pam, and their families, Brian, Ben, Alice, and Elora, were already at the villa. It was incredible that 16 of us had made it this far. Only two to go. Nora and Miles were making their way from the south coast of France to the villa and they had been in phone contact. They finally made it to the villa at about 10:00 that night.

And the party was complete. Debbie and Ben had whipped up some delicious food. Everyone found a comfortable room. We sat, exhausted and happy at the gazebo outside (see picture right) and marvelled at the goodness of it all.

I'm going to leave the description of the villa to my next post. In one word: perfect. Detail to follow.

Are you as tired now as we were then? We went to bed one by one. And by four in the morning, I think the villa was quiet. Our next day was a day of rest. And we needed that more than anything.