The Laiv Wire: Buongiorno Italia Pt. 1 -- Parla Inglese?

It should come as no real shock that traveling kind of gives me anxiety. Do I have enough clothes? Do I have the appropriate clothes? Will I get lost on the way there? Will I get lost when I am there? Is my phone battery going to die, leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere? Am I flying? Is my bag going to be checked even though it is well under the carry-on bag dimensions because none of these asshats knows how to properly store a suitcase in an overhead bin?

So on and so forth.

Of course, add international travel to the mix?

WILL I EVEN BE ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WHILE I AM THERE?

Let me back up.

With my new job, I was made aware that I would be traveling on a semi-regular basis to interact with vendors and various contractors. One of my supervisors had mentioned a few times that he was in talks with a company from Italy, and that I might have the opportunity to visit. "Oh, haha, ok, that's really cool," was effectively my response, because these days, honestly, there's no reason to expect or get excited about anything.

And then... May rolled around, and he walked into my office. "Is your passport up to date?"

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh fuuuu---.

I like the idea of international travel in theory, but in practice, it kind of terrifies me. I have a perpetual fear of stepping on the toes of people who don't speak the same language that I do. What would I do if I accidentally pissed a local off? How do I even say sorry???

The weeks leading up to the trip, I spent free hours on Duolingo Italian and googling Italian culture and taboos, but even then I didn't feel that much more confident. But, time quickly ran out, and it was off to Newark International, which - surprisingly - is a really nice airport with a remarkably extensive international food court.

Except maybe this thing. I caught sight of one of these and, curious, I couldn't help but try.

Prepackaged crepe. What could go wrong?

Mistake.

A bit like foam and pop-tart jam.

My stomach having been fully unsettled, it was time for my flight!

After a relaxing journey over the Atlantic, we landed in Milan at the Malpensa Airport, which was so lovely that I took no pictures of it when I got there. Hah. Actually, no, I was so exhausted and so disoriented by the time change when we arrived that I just wanted to collapse. Unfortunately for me, we were actually staying southwest of the airport in a town called Novara. Doubly unfortunately, a car ride that should have only taken 30 minutes turned into an hour+.

Pro tip #1 - Italians don't really follow speed limits. They can actually be kind of impatient on the road. That is a tried and true thing. We actually learned from a local that the government had tried to discourage this trend by placing speeding cameras in traffic barrels around town, but if you were to actually open it up, the canister was empty.

Pro tip #2 - When all of your coworkers and even the natives tell you that you should rent a car with built-in GPS to navigate, fucking. do. it. My project leader decided that it was too expensive, and channeling his inner Christopher Columbus, opted to print out a list of directions from Google Maps and an 8.5"x11" map of the area.

For any of us who grew up in the 90s/00s and remember Map Quest, etc., we should all be familiar with how well this does not work. Instead, we got lost in roundabouts for about 30 minutes. 15 minutes after taking the same incorrect turn again, I reluctantly pulled out my phone and prepared to eat the data charge. Unfortunately, I had little to no wifi signal, BUT my GPS radio was working just fine, and we managed to get to the hotel in one piece, where I promptly passed out for the rest of Saturday.

***

I woke up Sunday morning feeling far more refreshed and ready to face the day.

The place we were staying, the Hotel Cavour, was right by the city center, which made for convenient sight-seeing and shopping. I was up in the air about how I wanted to spend the day before a week of work with no real stops, but decided that I couldn't really choose on an empty stomach.

Interestingly, breakfast is not really viewed in Italy the same way it is in the US. I'd read about this online, but didn't quite believe it until I came to the breakfast array in the hotel dining hall. Where Americans tend to make a huge deal of protein and a good, hearty first meal, here every day it was just a light assortment of of pastries, a bit of fruit, and sometimes eggs and deli meat (which, I suspect was laid out solely for tourists.)

The other really interesting thing! Italians love their coffee. They will take espresso breaks 5+ times a day. But! It is NOT taken with meals. Espresso is more of a digestive to be drunk after the meal. Furthermore, the typical Starbucks fair - cappuccino, latte, mocha, so on and so forth is ok before noon, but drinking coffee with milk after lunch is sort of seen as weird.

I shared a quick breakfast with my manager as we discussed what our plans were for the day. He wanted to take a train to see Turin, but for no good reason that I could think of, I politely declined to venture out with, instead opting to tour the town of Novara.

Prepare yourselves for the photo dump!

The entirety of Sunday was really just spent tooling around Novara. Just by the hotel was Cavour Square, named for Camillo Benso, Count of Cavour, the first prime minister of a unified Italy. His statue stood proudly outside the city shopping district.

And of course, my first order of business was to taste the all famous Italian gelato:

Pistachio, natch. It was delicious.

But, enough of that for now. I will be inundating you about food plenty.

There were dogs everywhere!!!

Novara and the surrounding towns in this part of Piedmont were pretty clearly steeped in a religious history. Churches, basilicas, monuments and like abounded. Probably one of the largest ones near me was the Basilica di San Gaudenzio, named for Gaudentius of Novara, first Christian bishop of the city. The tower itself is the highest point of the city, and if ever you get lost (which, I frequently did on my meandering tour), it's a great point of reference.

I always feel very strange about taking pictures inside religious buildings. Today, I had just happened to stumble in while they were actually holding a service (11 AM on a Sunday. Doy.) I managed to justify it to myself when I noticed that I was not the only tourist creeping in to take a look about. Not that I blame any of us for not being able to hold ourselves back. The interior was absolutely stunning.

More tooling about occurred, and I'm a little sad to say, I didn't take much time to stop and learn about each and every locale I saw.

DOGS EVERYWHERE.

My new lizard friend.

Soon, though 2 PM rolled around. I had done a fair bit of walking and hadn't had anything to eat since my breakfast at 9ish, and I was definitely getting peckish.

The problem? Don't laugh - I didn't know how to get food.

There were outdoor restaurants, pizzerias, etc. all over, but every one I walked up to, no one asked if I wanted to be seated. I wandered between places for close to an hour, getting more anxious and more hungry with each minute, but I didn't know what to do. I tried finding out what restaurant etiquette was, but my phone still wasn't picking up wifi for some reason (yes, I did let my service know I'd be abroad.)

Finally, out of desperation, in my broken Italian, I approached a kind-looking waiter and asked, "May I sit down?"

"[Yes of course. Do you want to eat lunch?]"

Fortunately, Duolingo had taught me that much, and I nodded emphatically.

Pro tip #3: Gnocchi tastes unbelievable when you're famished and terrified.