In the cities I generally became highly agitated by the layers and people that each place revealed. I've never been a very publicly aggressive person, but I discovered very quickly I needed to take control of myself and do a complete reversal on my normal habits in order to survive. I think the most difficult part for me was the lack of order, specifically when it came to standing in lines. I had this innocent notion that people just automatically stay in their spot when in a line, and that social etiquette would frown upon cutting in front of someone else. Ah, how innocence is so quickly slapped in the face with the sulfur scent of Italian reality.
I was strangely depressed by the Colosseum. I was in love with what the Galleria Borghese offered and gave me (I wanted to touch the Bernini sculptures so bad). Standing on top Duomo in Milan was an experience that would be hard to top. Pisa was, in all honesty, a joke to me. The Vatican was bigger and more grand than I could have imagined. This mingled with the feeling that these famous sites so many people flocked to, were a strange kitsch-version of themselves—their purpose, to provide a trophy to hang on one's wall with a plaque reading, "I was there."
Despite my constant emotional identity crisis with how to feel about these places, I had this habit of looking at advertising and design. This is of course, is due to my obsessive compulsive nature to be unable to stop working, even when I'm on vacation. I was a little underwhelmed in general after seeing so much fantastic design in Zurich, but I was struck by the occasional very odd placement of half-naked women. From selling cars to, I think even at one point, I saw a woman on an ad that, I think was for office supplies—Her body splayed out like a turkey dinner—staplers and paperclips her garnish. I think that we are way too polite and puritan about sex in this county, but I didn't exactly see ads with the same vigor with men in them. It in reminded me, in a much more risqué way, how the U.S. used to use women to sell products in the 40's and 50's.Things got much better when we set out on a scooter and left the cities. In the countryside I felt this sense of relief, like I was breathing for the first time. I used to think it was so cliché to like the Tuscan countryside, but now I really understand why. The sun, the smell ... oh my god, the smell ... is probably something I will never forget. It smelled like sweet, dried wood, smoke and olive leaves. The air was just slightly crisp and very clean. Everything had this sense of age to it, but calm, natural serenity. The food was amazing. I don't think I once had problems (I am one of those unfortunate souls that is pretty much has an immune response to just about everything that I put in my mouth). Nothing was from a box, everything was made with care, and lunch was a sacred affair. If there were one other place in the world I'd live beside Seattle, it would be there. Which, if you look at the price of real estate, makes perfect sense (unfortunate for me).
My experience of Italy was beautiful, pungent, gritty and at times whirlwind and rude. I don't think I've ever been so exhausted and strangely unwilling but relieved to leave a place. An experience that I probably be digesting for awhile.
