I Am Not Her, But I Am Here

OK, I have to admit:  Yesterday's post wasn't quite fair.  I asked you to guess where I am, and the clue was the photo I included.  Its subject is an attractive, stylish woman on a bicycle.  You can find others like her in lots of places in this world--and there are more than a few blogs dedicated to them.  

Behind the woman in that photo are two girls dressed in a way that almost nobody would be at this time of year in this place.  Ever since I arrived yesterday, the weather has been very hot.  I am not surprised, as I had been here before in the summer and experienced similar weather.

No, I'm not in Florida with my parents.  From the background, I think you figured as much.  Also, I don't know of anyone in the Sunshine State who dresses like that woman.

If you figured that I'm in a European capital that's not Amsterdam, you're on the right track.


I was here this morning:

And this is where I spent most of my afternoon:

So now I have something in common with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck.  Yes, I am in Rome.

So "Why Rome?," you ask. Funny that you should:  One of my history professors asked that same question. In fact, that query was his entire final exam, and we had three hours to answer it. 

But as to why I am here now:  I kinda sorta thought I should come to Italy again.  Until yesterday, I hadn't been anywhere in this country since 2001, and I last set foot in this city five years before that.  The later visit was part of a bike tour that started in Lyon, France and took me through parts of the French, Italian and Swiss Alps.  Some would argue that it's not "really" Italy, but it is in its own way.  

Now, as for that 1996 trip, I'm going to tell you something I don't often talk about.  I had an Italian girlfriend whom I'd met in the US, when she was living and working here.  Then she had to go back and, practically from the moment she stepped off the plane in Fiumicino, was urging me to come over.  So I went the first chance I got--which, since I was teaching, meant summer.

Anyway, our relationship ended during that trip.  I am long past that:  I know that even if I hadn't undergone my life transitions, our relationship had a limited shelf life.  Still, having crossed the ocean to experience it is not a pleasant memory, to say the least.

I guess it's ironic, in a way, that a relationship should end that way (or in any way at all) in the "Eternal City"--one with the Forum and Colosseum, where I spent my morning and afternoon.  

Of course I loved seeing them again, and learning some things I never before knew (or, perhaps, had forgotten) about them.  Hey, I even saw a guy give the ring to the young lady with whom he wants to spend the rest of his days.  Still, I have felt sad:  I should love this city and this country but I don't.  Sometimes I feel as if I'm the only person in this world who doesn't.  Maybe I just don't identify with my heritage enough.  

Tomorrow I'm going to go on a bike tour of the city.  I would have gone today, but the English-speaking guide wasn't in.  And, after that, I'll rent a bike.  Maybe I'll feel better about this place then.

Where Have I Gone Now?

Here I am, on my way to work this morning:

All right, that was just a slight exaggeration.  A very, very slight one.  I won't use the "l" word--no, not that one. (I'm more like the "b" word.)  I mean, I'm not lying.  Just, shall we say, creating an alternative fact about myself.  Or, at least, a fact about myself in an alternative universe!

Anyway, that photo was taken--by somebody else, of course--in a location just a few pedal strokes from where I am now.  

More details to follow.

Hint:  The above photo can be found on The Amsterdamian.  I am not, however, in the Dutch capital.

Elettricita

Its romantic style with dips and crests take (sic) us back in time onto the bumpy, narrow passages of Italy.


Does anyone describe anything Italian in the English language without using words like "romantic", "love" or
"amore"?

This year, a beautiful pair of Sudini boots I wore for years finally gave out.  What I'll remember as much as the boots themselves is the box in which they came.  It was unremarkable, at least as Italian boxes go, except for the slogan underneath the Sudini name:  "Make love to your feet."

I am guessing it was, shall we say, an idiosyncratic translation of something.  To my knowledge, there are no more foot fetishists, per capita, among Italians in Italy or the diaspora, than among any other people in the world.

So what has the "romantic style" with "dips and crests" that are meant to remind us of "the bumpy narrow passages" (Sounds like a relationship or two in which I've been involved!) of my ancestors' (some, anyway) country?

It's something called "Velorapida".  That, of course, means "fast bike" in Italian.  There's nothing wrong with a name like that:  After all, "Motobecane" means "motor bike" in French.

But the "Velorapida" is something I don't normally associate with romance:  an e-bike.  Most of the ones I've seen here are ugly and are, most of the time, ridden by delivery workers or people who want to believe they're riding bicycles but don't want to put forth the effort.

I must say, though, that the Velorapida does challenge my belief, at least a little, even if it won't turn me to an e-biker:

To me, it looks like a newer, updated version of bikes you see all over Europe.   It even has the requisite charm and character.

The handcrafted leather bag, however, is not there to merely to add charm or even to carry formaggio or frutta from the local market.  Instead, it encases a "secret" battery pack.  

Oh, no!  I'll never look at leather bike bags the same way again!

I must say, though, that if someone is riding an electric bike instead of driving a car--or because he or she, for whatever reason, can't ride a regular bike--I am happy.  And I can't begrudge someone who's trying to make a living on an ebike:  If it's more expedient for them in any way than any other delivery vehicle, I can understand why they'd ride it.

I don't know what the Velorapidas cost.  If I were President (tee hee), I would decree that employers could provide them (or regular bicycles) for their workers and deduct them from their tax bill!