Trip Wrap-Up
1. Flight to the UK was mostly uneventful, slightly bumpy over the Hudson's Bay, but otherwise quite smooth. Notable elements: The Departed was good, the US-sourced breakfast was nasty, over-sugared, and ultimately did not agree with my digestive system.
2. The connection at Heathrow to my Milano flight was easy and difficulty-free...all within Terminal 1, though at the very far other-end of T1. Thankfully, the envelope that accompanies the boarding pass includes projected times it takes to walk to those gates. Good info distribution!
2a. One minor humorous note (in a 4th grade sort of way - avert eyes, ye of weak biological-humour constitutions)...On pure chance, the timing of the queue to the loo was such that I got my turn right as the Captain announced we were flying over Mont Blanc and Geneva...I couldn't help laughing at the notion that I was getting some metaphoric revenge at that very moment.
3. I met up with Francesco at Linate (incidentally, one disembarks from the aircraft in sheltered stairs to board buses to the gate - it was an experience that recalled both nostalgia and relief at the fresh air. There is a great deal lost in the hermetically-sealed American airport design.
Saturday to Monday - a blur of Riva activities, long conversations about games, theology, philosophy, food, and memories. Lots of laughter, and we all did our part to help ease Franz's stress. :-) I'm pleased I had the honour of sorting out Franz's cufflinks and tie. :-) I'm sure there was a cycle ride through bits of Milano (including the traffic circle where Il Duce and Patacci were hung - no monument, which I rather liked, actually) during that period. As well as incredibly good risotto*, tasty pasta, and a pizza run to share with Franz's flatmates.
*I'm pleased the Napa Valley-representative Zinfandel I brought went well with the meal, and was well received.
4. The wedding! Oh my, that is definitely the best wedding I've yet been to! It was such a fantastic mix of people who genuinely love and respect Franz and Aoi, and the outpouring of love for them and their future was a tonic like no other. :-)
4a. The cousins - why didn't Franz and Giovanni tell me that had so many female cousins? ;-) Ah well, they're spoken for, or far too young. So scratch that idea ya old git Zac. Oh, and the male cousin, Federico, spoke an insane number of languages - and really very well too. Why must a 23 year old shine so brightly? ;-) No, really, he rocks! When he starting going down the road of restoring the Roman Empire, we quickly degenerated into laughter.
4b. I was particularly impressed with the interesting clusters of friends and family who represented the different parts of Franz & Aoi's lives - Aoi had all her family from Japan, many Japanese friends from there and from Italy (if the quality of their excellent Italian was anything to go by), and Do-Mass colleagues (including a woman from the Faroe Islands! Wow, first time I've met someone from there - I think I pled my ignorance and curiosity with elan.); Franz had various ancient friends (such as me and Guillermo); a cluster of summercamp friends (Luigi, and others whose names I'm shamefully forgetting) who skilfully recast popular Italian love songs to great effect for Franz, Aoi, and everyone; his theatrical productions friends (they really got the party cooking with singing, dancing, and clapped demands for "Bacco! Bacco! Bacco!"); and the heaps of happy family from all generations emanating from Reggio.
At least as importantly was the horde of students and former students from Franz's class who turned up to pay their respects and share their wishes. Really, there is no better evidence of the rightness of Francesco's chosen profession, and his appreciated abilities. I just don't have the words to convey how cool that was to see. It was like something out of an 80s movie - even the punk rebel kid in leather-zip jacket and spikey hair turned up for his Prof.
You know, I was still giggling the next morning at the memories of the previous day.
Sidenote: Franz & Giovanni's grandmother (Nona..., I forget past this title) is a reknown chef who has published several recipes of national representation - and my word, her apple torte was incomparably delicious!
4c. Oh the food, oh the food, oh the food! Yes, that's all I'll say here - I'm keeping those taste memories to myself and those who were there - so there! :-p
5. I can't say enough about how warmly the Rivas treated me on this hectically busy event. They are a wonderful family.
6. I got to see Alessandra's apartment (soon to be Giovanni's too), and worried them by noting down some immediate ideas I might put to use by May. Alessandra is a great match for Giovanni, and I'd like to think I got them all hooked on Fluxx v3.0. I think other sociable game introductions will be required. :-) Apparently she's a sci-fi film fan too, so I told Giovanni to hold on watching Firefly until she could join him. :-) [And yes, I did tell them about the deserved "Captain Tightpants" monikier]. Oh, and additionally, I challenged Giovanni, who confesses to not liking dancing when Alessandra avidly does, that I would take dance lessons for their May wedding - and how could he possibly refuse such a challenge? Alessandra grinned at the notion. :-)
7. The day of my flight, I had a chance to chat with both brothers some more (funny - we still had so much to talk about, even after exhausting the early morning hours with it *grin*). I went for a walk in the neighbourhood with Francesco and went to see Giovanni's church. It's a nice simple modern affair, with a dedication to the Holy Spirit (finally! I now understand that burning flame angel in the Vittorio Emanuele II retail gallery next to the Duomo), and some interesting differences in symbols and focal areas than the traditional Catholic church. I got a sense of how Giovanni found a community there.
8. The return leg:
Part A: Linate - after a poorly signed wrong turn, Mrs. Riva quickly found the right exit to Linate ... all in all, really near their home. Thanks again for the ride Maria! Linate feels like a regional airport whose last architectural experiment with the contemporary was the early 1980s. The bubble-pattern rubber surfaces reign. The BA ladies were chatting, as all clerks are wont to do, but they quickly got down to business as I approached. They were swift, professional, and helpful...multilingual too! The flight to Heathrow was untroubled, the crew were cheerful and helpful (if a bit surprised by the multi-point boarding) ... I think a lot of the credit for this good experience has to go to the lucky ladybug pin I was wearing at the time.
The only odd bit were the several quick course corrections the pilot took to land us at Heathrow, at a slightly disconcerting angle of around 40 degrees off the horizon. I suspect the junior pilot landed that one. Ah well, we all have to learn somewhere, sometime.
Part B: Found Geneva & Zara's (nice!) place without difficulty, lugged up the luggage, slashed some water on my face, and off we went to Borders to meet up with Niall, Tom, & Liz. Punjab proved very tastey - YUM!
Sidenote: I was really really impressed with the improvements on London's Underground:
1. The trains and stations are so clean!
2. The signage is so good - the information distribution (telling me exactly what I need to know, when I need to know it) was absolutely first-class. Even the train conductor would announce various bits of useful information about upcoming stations on a clearly-heard PA system.
3. Helpful station managers - the slightest delay in my pulling out my card as I ferried my big bags through the gate was quickly met with offers of genuine help. Gone are the days of absent booths amid broken turnstiles that I remember of the 80s.
4. Oyster Card! Wow, how overdue was that?!
...granted, this was the Piccadilly and Northern lines, but still, this included Southbank routes for Christsakes.
G said that perhaps my first experiences with the Tube were particularly scarring - maybe so, I still remember the King's Cross fire, and those old wooden escalator steps speeding away amongst the manky crud of the typical Tube station.
Oh, and I was quite impressed with Kennington* actually. Though it appeared that no one I spoke with transiting through there actually knew much about the neighbourhood or where streets were located.
*One odd bit: someone left an entire 'dime bag' of dope lying on the street under a lamp near one of the cornershops. Too bad I was traveling. ;-)
Part C: The rush back to Heathrow to catch my morning flight turned out to be perfect timing, except for the BA computer failure which left people in bladder-challenging queue for nearly an hour (well two, but I only waited the one). Thankfully friendly queuers held my place as I dashed for relief. Perhaps unsurprisingly, two "City" financial-types ahead of me, pressed ahead, disappeared, and when things got moving, somehow ended up being serviced far ahead of us. We all observed this, and shook our heads. Oh, and there was one particularly irate Irish woman unhappily dealing with Aer Lingus who was barely intelligible beyond her cursing.
This lead to several knock-on effects, which included:
C1. Extensive secondary physical screening at the departure gate. This included a slightly odd scene of two security types getting into an argument over a man's slow compliance as he carefully tried to unwrap the presents he bought for his kids. The junior security guy didn't want anything to do with that, and the senior security guy reprimanded him in a bizarrely backwards offensive way, saying something to the effect that "Only an American would be bothered by that!" (I'm assuming the unwrapping of gifts, than his colleague's reluctance to carry out the job, no matter how personally reprehensible).
I suspect racial profiling of a kind, odd though it is for me to say it, since two of the three security guys, including the boss, were black. Only caucasian women were selected for female spot-inspections, and only swarthier types and blacks (with the exception of sensitive gift unwrapping guy) were selected for male spot-inspections. Maybe I'm still affected by the echo of my Heathrow-to-Linate journey, when in a group of 6, the darker Italian was selected for spot inspection.
In any event, it all felt a lot like a herd of Gnu trying to ford the same crocodile-infested Nile crossing.
Thankfully the flight was somewhat emptier than I was expecting, and those excellent Italian BA ladies got me an emergency door row seat ... my legs were soooo greatful. Viva Italia!
Notable flight elements: good veggie option, but why is it always cheese pasta? Loved the fresh fruit for breakfast. Aardvark's production of shorts: "Creature Comforts."
C2. Unfortunately, there was an hour-delay on the tarmac in a sweltery 747...but I did have a bottle of water with, and I caught a nap.
C3. Apparently Vaccuum-packed Italian meats represent a clear and present danger to US Agriculture, and were confiscated by USDA at SFO. I don't think I looked particularly untrustworthy half as much as all travelers from Italy are being flagged.
Personally, I don't understand how something that is going through my gut first presents much of a risk to agriculture - and frankly, I've seen those American factory farms - I'd risk my health with Italian meat any day of the week compared with those nightmares.
Sorry Mrs. Riva - my own country's blind totalitarian approach towards food impoverishes us all, and especially my stomach that really wanted to eat that salami*.
*Too bad I didn't think to eat it then and there, and perhaps even share it out with those idiots in a nonviolent confrontational tactic ... but I didn't want trouble with other items, ahem.
I am again confronted with the question: why the hell am I here?
I expect my passport is now logged in a USDA 'watch list' which will doubtlessly be shared via 3rd party contractor to the wider Homeland Security network. One electronic hiccup later, I'm in Gitmo. I just know it.
Note: I really really really should have worn the ladybug luck charm with me on this leg of my journey.
2. The connection at Heathrow to my Milano flight was easy and difficulty-free...all within Terminal 1, though at the very far other-end of T1. Thankfully, the envelope that accompanies the boarding pass includes projected times it takes to walk to those gates. Good info distribution!
2a. One minor humorous note (in a 4th grade sort of way - avert eyes, ye of weak biological-humour constitutions)...On pure chance, the timing of the queue to the loo was such that I got my turn right as the Captain announced we were flying over Mont Blanc and Geneva...I couldn't help laughing at the notion that I was getting some metaphoric revenge at that very moment.
3. I met up with Francesco at Linate (incidentally, one disembarks from the aircraft in sheltered stairs to board buses to the gate - it was an experience that recalled both nostalgia and relief at the fresh air. There is a great deal lost in the hermetically-sealed American airport design.
Saturday to Monday - a blur of Riva activities, long conversations about games, theology, philosophy, food, and memories. Lots of laughter, and we all did our part to help ease Franz's stress. :-) I'm pleased I had the honour of sorting out Franz's cufflinks and tie. :-) I'm sure there was a cycle ride through bits of Milano (including the traffic circle where Il Duce and Patacci were hung - no monument, which I rather liked, actually) during that period. As well as incredibly good risotto*, tasty pasta, and a pizza run to share with Franz's flatmates.
*I'm pleased the Napa Valley-representative Zinfandel I brought went well with the meal, and was well received.
4. The wedding! Oh my, that is definitely the best wedding I've yet been to! It was such a fantastic mix of people who genuinely love and respect Franz and Aoi, and the outpouring of love for them and their future was a tonic like no other. :-)
4a. The cousins - why didn't Franz and Giovanni tell me that had so many female cousins? ;-) Ah well, they're spoken for, or far too young. So scratch that idea ya old git Zac. Oh, and the male cousin, Federico, spoke an insane number of languages - and really very well too. Why must a 23 year old shine so brightly? ;-) No, really, he rocks! When he starting going down the road of restoring the Roman Empire, we quickly degenerated into laughter.
4b. I was particularly impressed with the interesting clusters of friends and family who represented the different parts of Franz & Aoi's lives - Aoi had all her family from Japan, many Japanese friends from there and from Italy (if the quality of their excellent Italian was anything to go by), and Do-Mass colleagues (including a woman from the Faroe Islands! Wow, first time I've met someone from there - I think I pled my ignorance and curiosity with elan.); Franz had various ancient friends (such as me and Guillermo); a cluster of summercamp friends (Luigi, and others whose names I'm shamefully forgetting) who skilfully recast popular Italian love songs to great effect for Franz, Aoi, and everyone; his theatrical productions friends (they really got the party cooking with singing, dancing, and clapped demands for "Bacco! Bacco! Bacco!"); and the heaps of happy family from all generations emanating from Reggio.
At least as importantly was the horde of students and former students from Franz's class who turned up to pay their respects and share their wishes. Really, there is no better evidence of the rightness of Francesco's chosen profession, and his appreciated abilities. I just don't have the words to convey how cool that was to see. It was like something out of an 80s movie - even the punk rebel kid in leather-zip jacket and spikey hair turned up for his Prof.
You know, I was still giggling the next morning at the memories of the previous day.
Sidenote: Franz & Giovanni's grandmother (Nona..., I forget past this title) is a reknown chef who has published several recipes of national representation - and my word, her apple torte was incomparably delicious!
4c. Oh the food, oh the food, oh the food! Yes, that's all I'll say here - I'm keeping those taste memories to myself and those who were there - so there! :-p
5. I can't say enough about how warmly the Rivas treated me on this hectically busy event. They are a wonderful family.
6. I got to see Alessandra's apartment (soon to be Giovanni's too), and worried them by noting down some immediate ideas I might put to use by May. Alessandra is a great match for Giovanni, and I'd like to think I got them all hooked on Fluxx v3.0. I think other sociable game introductions will be required. :-) Apparently she's a sci-fi film fan too, so I told Giovanni to hold on watching Firefly until she could join him. :-) [And yes, I did tell them about the deserved "Captain Tightpants" monikier]. Oh, and additionally, I challenged Giovanni, who confesses to not liking dancing when Alessandra avidly does, that I would take dance lessons for their May wedding - and how could he possibly refuse such a challenge? Alessandra grinned at the notion. :-)
7. The day of my flight, I had a chance to chat with both brothers some more (funny - we still had so much to talk about, even after exhausting the early morning hours with it *grin*). I went for a walk in the neighbourhood with Francesco and went to see Giovanni's church. It's a nice simple modern affair, with a dedication to the Holy Spirit (finally! I now understand that burning flame angel in the Vittorio Emanuele II retail gallery next to the Duomo), and some interesting differences in symbols and focal areas than the traditional Catholic church. I got a sense of how Giovanni found a community there.
8. The return leg:
Part A: Linate - after a poorly signed wrong turn, Mrs. Riva quickly found the right exit to Linate ... all in all, really near their home. Thanks again for the ride Maria! Linate feels like a regional airport whose last architectural experiment with the contemporary was the early 1980s. The bubble-pattern rubber surfaces reign. The BA ladies were chatting, as all clerks are wont to do, but they quickly got down to business as I approached. They were swift, professional, and helpful...multilingual too! The flight to Heathrow was untroubled, the crew were cheerful and helpful (if a bit surprised by the multi-point boarding) ... I think a lot of the credit for this good experience has to go to the lucky ladybug pin I was wearing at the time.
The only odd bit were the several quick course corrections the pilot took to land us at Heathrow, at a slightly disconcerting angle of around 40 degrees off the horizon. I suspect the junior pilot landed that one. Ah well, we all have to learn somewhere, sometime.
Part B: Found Geneva & Zara's (nice!) place without difficulty, lugged up the luggage, slashed some water on my face, and off we went to Borders to meet up with Niall, Tom, & Liz. Punjab proved very tastey - YUM!
Sidenote: I was really really impressed with the improvements on London's Underground:
1. The trains and stations are so clean!
2. The signage is so good - the information distribution (telling me exactly what I need to know, when I need to know it) was absolutely first-class. Even the train conductor would announce various bits of useful information about upcoming stations on a clearly-heard PA system.
3. Helpful station managers - the slightest delay in my pulling out my card as I ferried my big bags through the gate was quickly met with offers of genuine help. Gone are the days of absent booths amid broken turnstiles that I remember of the 80s.
4. Oyster Card! Wow, how overdue was that?!
...granted, this was the Piccadilly and Northern lines, but still, this included Southbank routes for Christsakes.
G said that perhaps my first experiences with the Tube were particularly scarring - maybe so, I still remember the King's Cross fire, and those old wooden escalator steps speeding away amongst the manky crud of the typical Tube station.
Oh, and I was quite impressed with Kennington* actually. Though it appeared that no one I spoke with transiting through there actually knew much about the neighbourhood or where streets were located.
*One odd bit: someone left an entire 'dime bag' of dope lying on the street under a lamp near one of the cornershops. Too bad I was traveling. ;-)
Part C: The rush back to Heathrow to catch my morning flight turned out to be perfect timing, except for the BA computer failure which left people in bladder-challenging queue for nearly an hour (well two, but I only waited the one). Thankfully friendly queuers held my place as I dashed for relief. Perhaps unsurprisingly, two "City" financial-types ahead of me, pressed ahead, disappeared, and when things got moving, somehow ended up being serviced far ahead of us. We all observed this, and shook our heads. Oh, and there was one particularly irate Irish woman unhappily dealing with Aer Lingus who was barely intelligible beyond her cursing.
This lead to several knock-on effects, which included:
C1. Extensive secondary physical screening at the departure gate. This included a slightly odd scene of two security types getting into an argument over a man's slow compliance as he carefully tried to unwrap the presents he bought for his kids. The junior security guy didn't want anything to do with that, and the senior security guy reprimanded him in a bizarrely backwards offensive way, saying something to the effect that "Only an American would be bothered by that!" (I'm assuming the unwrapping of gifts, than his colleague's reluctance to carry out the job, no matter how personally reprehensible).
I suspect racial profiling of a kind, odd though it is for me to say it, since two of the three security guys, including the boss, were black. Only caucasian women were selected for female spot-inspections, and only swarthier types and blacks (with the exception of sensitive gift unwrapping guy) were selected for male spot-inspections. Maybe I'm still affected by the echo of my Heathrow-to-Linate journey, when in a group of 6, the darker Italian was selected for spot inspection.
In any event, it all felt a lot like a herd of Gnu trying to ford the same crocodile-infested Nile crossing.
Thankfully the flight was somewhat emptier than I was expecting, and those excellent Italian BA ladies got me an emergency door row seat ... my legs were soooo greatful. Viva Italia!
Notable flight elements: good veggie option, but why is it always cheese pasta? Loved the fresh fruit for breakfast. Aardvark's production of shorts: "Creature Comforts."
C2. Unfortunately, there was an hour-delay on the tarmac in a sweltery 747...but I did have a bottle of water with, and I caught a nap.
C3. Apparently Vaccuum-packed Italian meats represent a clear and present danger to US Agriculture, and were confiscated by USDA at SFO. I don't think I looked particularly untrustworthy half as much as all travelers from Italy are being flagged.
Personally, I don't understand how something that is going through my gut first presents much of a risk to agriculture - and frankly, I've seen those American factory farms - I'd risk my health with Italian meat any day of the week compared with those nightmares.
Sorry Mrs. Riva - my own country's blind totalitarian approach towards food impoverishes us all, and especially my stomach that really wanted to eat that salami*.
*Too bad I didn't think to eat it then and there, and perhaps even share it out with those idiots in a nonviolent confrontational tactic ... but I didn't want trouble with other items, ahem.
I am again confronted with the question: why the hell am I here?
I expect my passport is now logged in a USDA 'watch list' which will doubtlessly be shared via 3rd party contractor to the wider Homeland Security network. One electronic hiccup later, I'm in Gitmo. I just know it.
Note: I really really really should have worn the ladybug luck charm with me on this leg of my journey.