Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Italy’

For once in our lives we actually left for the airport on time, no racing out the door, no panic because we could not find a cab.  Off to a good start.  Let’s begin by saying I’m probably not the best packer, so for me to pack for a month’s stay in a place where they hang their underwear out on the front balcony was a real challenge and we ended up with 1 LARGE suitcase, 1 Carry-on suitcase,  2 small Travel cases and 1 large  leather tote and a cane of course.

First things first, we knew our best bet was to get me in a wheelchair because you know the gate I’m going to is ALWAYS the farthest away.  I like to look at the boards of the other 9 gates as I drag my bags along to see if they are going someplace I’d rather be.

Never being handicapped before, I had no idea of how fantastic it was to travel this way.  I was wheeled up to the counter because I had a bag to check (and no Juanita we we were not overweight). Madeia took care of us, with the broadest most perfect ivory smile I have ever seen. She laughed, she told us about her singing career and her idol, Billie Holiday.  We promised to be in the audience when she performed some day in Carnegie Hall and I do believe she will get there.

She signaled for someone to take us to the TSA check and me and the wheelchair just cruised to head of line and we let Peter come with us.  For some reason I was pre-approved but he was not, Mmmm.  Who knew Mr. Press was a security risk? Anyway I had to put all my bags on belt and hobble thru the X-ray.  I didn’t beep but they ran the wand over the boot – let us not forget the infamous shoe bomber! Once thru I’m left sort of standing there leaning like the Tower of Pisa waiting for the man and the wheelchair to appear and at the same time look over at the conveyer for my bags.

FC482810-7C9E-4F66-9933-BAD5EE1D2B60.jpegI see all but the tote which of course has my phone, my iPad, and my euros. I’m really panicking and if you can imagine what a whirling dervish with a limp would look like like -that’s me as I scan my entire perimeter looking for that bag and Peter joins in looking for his passport. Kindly man shows up with chair and wonders what the problem is? Where is my bag?  Apparently it is under further examination….

It’s noon, we left at 10:10, still no coffee, still no breakfast.   C554415C-58A1-4490-BFA9-381229FC0AECI wish I could remember kindly man’s name but I can’t, says Dunkin Donuts and that sounds good to me.  Wait a minute, didn’t I envision a month of frutta, formaggio, Parma e caffe per colazione every morning for a month?? Oh well still in USA. I drew the line at the coffee though insisting we go to Starbucks after we got the donuts. Look how quickly one can become a diva sitting on a throne! LOL.

Finally onto the plane for a quick flight to Charlotte NC for a 2+ hour layover  where I suggested we eat some real food because I remembered last year they didn’t serve dinner till around 11pm. When it was time to start boarding, this adorable young man shows up –  Kevin Hill.  Oh my, after a protracted winter of gray days and the stress of the last few days, that Southern charm was rolling off his tongue like ice cream melting on a warm day. He “yes mam’ed”  and “Miss Laura’ed” me every few words all the way from the gate right up to the plane. I told him he needed to trade up that green uniform working for the airport and get a blue, red and white Americann Airlines uniform to cash in on the perks.  With his south of the Mason Dixon line charm,  he would make a great attendant.

I booked each of us an aisle seat at opposite ends of a 4 seat row.  I figured we would work it out and so I talked Peter into giving his seat up to sit next to me.  BUT that wasn’t so smart since my bad foot was not on the aisle and we wedged in there pretty tight.  Halfway through the delicious airline meal, the man in front of Peter shoves his seat back  in full force, just about knocking his meal off the tray. Shortly thereafter the woman in front of me does the same.  THIS HAPPENS ALL THE TIME! I sit on the aisle  so I can access the bathroom and not disturb anyone else – these other people sit in the aisle seat because they are the size of a cow.

Long night, could not sleep, pretty scrunched up. I can’t even turn sideways but the rude disgusting person in front of me with her seat pushed back and blanket up to her chin , legs stretched out in front of her watching tv like she was in her living room. I was miserable 😩. I tried taking the boot off and letting it  rest on the plastic bag holding the pillow and blanket but my foot kept falling off the slippery plastic.

4F27A726-B668-40D3-A282-A956A08B6EA0.jpeg

I tried to take some Tylenol to ease the pain in my arthritic knees and wanted to stand up so I asked Peter to turn on his light. All the controls were on an unlit  panel and in a  moment an attendant appeared  – how embarrassing ! I tell her we don’t need any help, it was a mistake. She says, “perhaps you do, you are holding pills”. I try to explain in shorthand that my knees hurt, my foot can’t move, nor can I get up because the seat in front is so far back and and I had been thinking of going to rear of plane to see if I could sit in back with her and prop leg up. At first she said it was against regs  but then said seeing how I’m in distress, it would be ok. I opted for the Tylenol and would see if they worked. They didn’t!

Now I notice Peter is waching The Phantom Thread and I want to watch it also but my screen isn’t quite functioning correctly. We can’t get my screen to move to another page so Peter starts tapping really hard on the screen and rapidly. All of a sudden the seat in front of me jerks forward! Ha! I guess she thought I was sending a message , Oh please let me just make it thru this night and off the plane.

Plane was scheduled to land at 9:30am and we needed to get luggage, go thru customs get a 🚕 and get to Rome Termini (train station) where we had reservations for a train to Florence. Well first ondoes not mean first off. Quite the contrary.  I was told to move up to front of plane to wait for the wheelchair.  Got to sit in Business class and was able to fantasize how easy it would be to sleep there. Well turns out several people were gathered and directed off the plane not onto a jetway with a wheelchair waiting- no it was like a large tram on stilts because it was at plane exit level. We sat on benches along the walls. They were all over 80 I swear and not a cast, cane or boot among them!!! We began to move along, going God knows where. We stop. A young girl calls out a name and after several attempts we figure out she is saying McCarthy. That couple exits. I’m wondering how we are going to get our luggage go through customs and get that taxi to the train on time. There were like 2 couples nearer to the door than me but the nice Italian man who was the driver, looked at me and held his hand out to escort me out to the platform that then lowered you to ground level where the wheelchair was waiting.  What a contraption and how efficient!

We are wheeled to yet another terminal and I see the place looks empty, maybe the lines for customs has come and gone. NOT. Long hot lines of overtired, unwashed, teeth undressed people shifting their weight and dragging luggage.  Ahhh the wheelchair rules. Right to a special deal, no line, no questions. Nobody cares why we are here or how long we will stay or did we vote for Trump (ha ha only kidding)!

2BD65263-3F36-49D1-AC2D-869C91DD9C88.jpeg

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Ah but before we get to the land of ruins and romance we still have to get to the airport on time.  And before that somebody had to put in a significant amount of time planning and planning and planning  every detail of this adventure in Italia.

The hardest part was coordinating the flights so we could fly out together but return at different times.  In the early 1990’s I wrote down about 25 goals I hoped  to achieve and one of them was to spend 3-6 months in Italy.  Well as you know life takes over and here it another year in another decade so…okay it won’t be 3 months – I’ll spend one month in Italy and really try to learn some more Italian.  And that’s why we are flying home at different times LOL – it’s my dream, not Peter’s.

My sister-in-law Juanita was kind enough to agree to stay in our apartment and feed out cats and move our car for alternate side parking.  Luckily for us it coordinated with some NYC doctor appointments she had. So far she has reported that the luck of the Irish has been with her because the 2 times she went down to move the car, the street cleaner didn’t show up in the designated half hour you must be in your car and prepared to move it. Luck of the Irish??? She’s Spanish and Italian!!! 418DAE9B-3225-43EF-9A33-EEC8BEEAF863

Then there was the housing arrangements n Guardia San Framondi where we decided to return. It’s a small village in the mountains of Campania.

3785_orig

View of Guardia Sanframondi. You can clearly see the old town and parts of the new town built around it.

Last year we came as tourists, this year we live here.  Also a car rental, train tickets to and from Florence ( YES we spent 3 nights in Firenze), two hotel rooms for two nights in Rome because return flights to NYC are early morning and Guardia 3 hours away! Cell phone plans, cancel newspapers in NYC and NJ,  hold the mail, cover myself for real estate ( more about that later), sign permission slips for key entry to our apt for Juanita and then Jade, who is coming in for 4 days to take care of the cats and visit her mom and also our cat sitter wo will look after the fur babies for 2 days until Peter returns. Exchange currency, WHEW!

I did all this planning throughout February and early March AND THEN on March 8th, I broke my right foot 😫!

A Nor’easter was raging outside so I stayed inside and was cleaning. Vacuumed the den, left the vacuum cleaner in the doorway, picked up the brass waste basket and walked barefoot out of the room – tripped on the cord, dropped the metal can and must have  have landed on my own foot and broke (not fractured) the fifth metatarsal.  At this point I didn’t

really believe it was broken but I can now say I brought my boot to the boot. Does the cliche, “…the best laid plans…” come to mind?

But the next day after a hobble to City MD and brutally revealing X-Ray and a visit to an orthopedist , I added this to my pack list; 8FEE8EB9-48A9-49D8-A7EE-3A65B57FE6AD

Read Full Post »

House Hunting in Italy – A Busman’s Holiday??

I don’t know any real estate agent or broker who doesn’t live their profession pretty  much 24/7.  I don’t mean they are in their office every day or showing properties every day but whether it is meeting new people to expand your network or staying in touch with your circle of friends and those that are in a position to recommend  you or previewing new properties, well that’s the life of a real estate salesperson.  So even on vacation, you can probably rest assured that we (that’s me) will look a the postings in the windows of local real estate firms, read the local real estate magazines and some cases (uh oh now it’s getting personal) will actually engage a local broker to show them some property.  BUT wait, that’s not to mean they would waste another professional’s time by asking to be taken out but have no intention of purchasing,  No, when it’s just real estate curiosity that has taken hold on of oneself, then the appropriate thing to do is just go to some Open Houses,   Well that’s enough about practices here in the United States, don’t forget I’m in Italy (so to speak).

My trip to Italy was predicated on two major ideas; first to discover my roots and see the village my grandfather, Luciano Fantacone was born and raised in and secondly to explore the possibility of buying an inexpensive property in Italy, specifically Guardia Sanframondi.

I intentionally contacted Pasquale Orso about lodging and knew that he had assisted other Americans in finding a home there.   Within the first hour of meeting Pasquale, he spent considerable time explaining to me that he had connections and he could find us the perfect place.  I spent considerable time explaining to him that this was more of an exploratory trip and that I wasn’t planning on buying anything this trip!  The greater gist of this conversation was Pasquale extracting a commitment from me NOT to allow any random person on the street to entice me to look at some house because we were obviously Americans. ( Many Americans have already purchased property in Guardia Sanframondi).  I told him I understood and as a real estate broker would not do that.

That brings us to the afternoon that Pasquale is going to show us two houses;  We all      (literally 5 of us) pack into a small (tiny) Italian car and off we go to some outlying street of the town and one must park the card sort of off road at the top of a small incline.   The house is below in front of us, very sweet ranch like property with no lawn (I didn’t seem much lawn at all anywhere), however a very large patio with a rather make-shift open wall roofed structure off to one side where lots of potted plants were residing.  I thought I heard him say something about keeping the plants out of direct sunlight.  The house itself had a LOT of possibilities although Peter didn’t seem to think so.  There were really only 2 rooms;  A large great room that was the length of the house and featured an open kitchen (not exactly our standards) a fireplace, a kitchen table, a dining room table and chairs and living room furniture.  At the end of the room next to entrance to the bedroom was a very modern bathroom.  The house was not filled with light, not that many windows.  We went to the bedroom which was so big, not to make into two rooms would be a crime.  It was also dark but I believe there was a possibility of creating another window at one end.  Since Pasquale’s english isn’t exactly perfect I wasn’t clear on the configuration of the property as it seemed to be somehow connected to 3 other homes although not visibly.  He was talking about some Count or Prince or some nobility that at one time owned the estate.  The house had two small outbuilding rooms that were connected to the house  and were being used as storage sheds BUT they had two tiny windows that looked out on the mountains AND they could be enlarged.  Peter was not impressed that much and now in retrospect I think it was a shame that we saw this one first.  Cost $35000.  I’m sorry to say I don’t have a photo of the house, but this was the view.  

20170517_180244

I Wonder How Long It Takes Before You Get Tired Of Looking At The Beautiful Mountains?

Secundo – we are now back on one of the two main streets in Guardia and as we head down a hill, Giuseppe, a friend of Pasquale and our new driver, pulls off to the side of the street.  We are in front of a huge 3 story house.  You know using the word house here is a bit of a misnomer.  There are houses as we know them, if not in a recognizable style, they are at least wooden structures with roofs.  This is a tall thin stone structure, with a garage door (be still my heart)!  A house with a garage in the main part of town (not the medieval city).  As we enter, the first thing I see are the stairs, so many of them…But first to our immediate right there is a very large room, freshly painted and with a new floor and huge window looking at…the mountains!  And at the other end of the room, what did we see but the garage door!! Apparently the previous owners decided a first floor room was much more marketable than a garage, NOT!  Maybe they didn’t own a car, because parking on the narrow streets of Guardia is not exactly easy.  OK, so no garage, let’s go up and look.  Very steep stairs to the second floor where there are two bedrooms, nice views.  Up some more stairs, also very steep and lo and behold there’s the kitchen with a Juliet balcony, how clever, NOT.  Aside from my comments and the fact that I climbed the stairs barely breathing, it was clear to Giuseppe that this house was not for us!

                                                                                                     To be continued…

Read Full Post »

FAMOUS FOR FLAGELLATION!!!

Tourists flock to Italy for many different reasons;  To Florence to see David, to Rome for the Coliseum, Trevi Fountain, Spanish Steps and more. They travel to Venice for romance of the canals, Naples for the Isle of Capri, and to Milan for the fashion.  And of course there is much more, I could go on and on, for Italy is a treasure trove of medieval history, religious fervor and festivals, mountains, miles of beautiful coastline and fabulous food.

And then there’s Guardia Sanframondi!  Not your every day tourist destination.  However, THOUSANDS of tourists, visitors, and the locals from all over the region and other parts of Italy really do descend upon Guardia once every 7 years!  2017 is one of those years.  

Guardia Sanframondi celebrates a centuries-old religious rite. The following information comes from Wikipedia:  

Guardia hosts a riti settennali di penitenza or penitential rite every seven years. The rite honors the discovery of a Madonna and Child statue found in a field hundreds of years ago. The rite consists of a series of processions the week following the Assumption. Until recently, the rite was only known locally, but as residents moved elsewhere in Italy and abroad, word of the rite has spread. It has become something of a homecoming event. There are four components of the rite:

THE MYSTERIES:  The four quarters of town each form committees to organize a parade of “mysteries” (religious scenes), with volunteers in period costumes from the Old Testament, New Testament, and Lives of Saints. The neighboring towns of San Lorenzo Maggiore and San Lupo join with the committees to stage a few of the mysteries. In 2003 there were about one hundred mysteries in all. During the week each quarter of town has a separate procession through its own neighborhood. On Sunday all the quarters form a grand procession. The participants hold a pose depicting a particular moment of the mystery as they walk through town—they do not act out events. The committees informally compete with each other to put on the finest mysteries.     

Guardia-mystery

The “Mystery” of Saint Lawrence

CHOIRS:  Each quarter also forms a choir that joins the processions. Traditionally the choirs were formed of unmarried girls, but recently married women, and occasionally men, have joined in. The women wear white clothing, a symbolic crowns of thorns, and braided cords around their shoulders.

PENITENTS:  During the neighborhood processions, several flagellanti (“flagellants”) join in. They gently strike their backs with a metal scourge. On Sunday, the procession is joined by several hundred battenti (“beaters”) who strike their chests with a spugna (literally “sponge,” it is really a disk of cork holding dozens of pins). Designated helpers pour white wine on the sponges during the procession, supposedly to ward off infection. There are a few dozen flagellantiduring the Sunday procession, who also provide crowd control. The flagellanti and battenti are anonymous. They wear white hoods and are not even supposed to tell family members they are participating. Scourges and sponges are not carried openly or displayed in homes after the rite. The battenti are all men, although a few of the flagellanti are women.  Additionally there are a few dozen symbolic child flagellanti. They wear black robes and caps, and very gently swing a small scourge over their shoulders.   

one-penitent-during-the-bloody-procession-for-the-assumption-of-the-DP3E27

A Penitent Holding a Piece of Cork Studded with Needles

STATUE: The rite ends with the procession of the Madonna and Child statue through the town. After the mysteries start, the statue is removed from the church, at which point a cannon sounds to announce the event. The procession stops and everyone kneels for a minute. When the statue makes its way to the town center, the battenti walk in front of it on their knees. When the procession continues, the crowds follow the statue, or walk backwards in front of it. The procession ends as the statue is returned to the church. All-night vigils in the Church of the Ave Gratia Plena continue for several day

AND that’s why we are not going back in August!  No, not really but you can’t get a room anywhere for miles and miles around.  This is a BIG DEAL!  Did you read The DaVinci Code?  Remember Silas? The albino monk who not only flagellated himself, he also wore sackcloth and strapped a metal cilice (spiked garter) around his thigh.  

As I previously inferred, religious fervor is a real characteristic in these small villages in south central Italy.  Not only are most of the towns named after saints, each town has a patron saint.  The patron saint of Guardia Sanframondi is Saint Phillip Neri.

20170517_165537

St. Phillip Neri – Patron Saint of Guardia Sanframondi

Read Full Post »

The Tales, Trials, and Tribulations of Travels with Peterlori

For the those readers of mine who have in the past enjoyed the tales of my trials and tribulations in travel, I think you’re in for a treat.  This trip was long in the  planning stage;  As the New Year rang in, the stark reality of turning 70 this year hit me,  and well,  that and a fairly significant real estate deal gone south, caused me to re-assess a LOT of things. What followed were a series of days and weeks when the phrases Carpe diem, You only live once and Don’t put off till tomorrow what you can do today and lastly, My God, this is a BIG one!  That’s the prologue to my finally deciding to go for it!  I’m going to celebrate my 70th birthday in Italy!!

And so in the wee hours of the morning (a.k.a. I can’t sleep because my mind is racing), I searched and searched and then researched and read and read some more and  then I did the following:  I booked a flight to Rome (because Naples was more expensive) so reasonably I was jumping up and down at my desk.  Then through Facebook, I communicated with the owner of a B&B in Guardia Sanframondi, in Campania Italy.  I checked out whether we should train it to the village from Rome but realized it would be best to rent a car so we could drive around once there.  So I went online and rented one, you have to love the internet.

But why Guardia Sanframondi you ask?  Well, last year I saw a segment of Sunday Morning that featured this town as a place many Americans were buying homes in this medieval town – I was intrigued.  Then I found out that Guardia was within an hour’s driving distance to Mirrabello di Santico which is the village my paternal grandfather was born and raised till at age of 16, he took off for America.  Mirrabello di Santico is in the province of Molise.  Several years ago, my cousin Kathi did extensive genealogical research and during the Christmas holiday, she showed me many of the documents she had uncovered.  Since no one is still alive who would know the history, things seemed a bit confusing. My cousin said the family came from Mirrabello, my grandfather used to refer to Naples, my grandmother said her family was from the province of Abruzzo but we believe it was Salerno, my father often told me I must be Calabrese (a slur referring to my being stubborn), and to that add the fact that over the years, some of the borders of those provinces blurred.  This landmark birthday was the perfect time to find my roots.

The Provinces of Italy

We’re Basically In The RED

Over the next couple of months I corresponded with my soon-to-be host, Pasquale Orso.  Pasquale owns a B&B, La Tana dell’ Orso, http://www.bborso.com/ but more about him later.  I began my compulsive organizing, much list-making, reading blogs and printing out reams of information: directions, maps, reservation confirmations, airline confirmations,  house rules for the Airbnb (where we would stay in Rome), airport information as well as several pages of family genealogical information and a letter from my grandfather to his mother which I hoped to have translated.  I also made arrangements for a friend to stay in our apartment and take care of our cats for a few days and hired Edith, a cat sitter and friend, to feed and care for Nick and Nora once our friend left.  Additionally keys were designated for both parties, the doorman notified, and the Super agreed to move our car to accommodate New York City’s alternate side parking rules.  Whew!  

Monday evening May 15th was D-Day (Departure date) and in the days prior, clothes were ironed and laid out all over the apartment.  The night before I folded everything with tissue paper and packed my shirts and pants in these great plastic  packing bags my sister-in-law, Juanita gave me.  The next morning I insisted on washing my hair and then packed last minute make-up etc.. Of course being true to myself, I also dusted the bedroom, put clean sheets on the bed, laid out fresh towels for my house guest and put a new bar of soap in the shower.  

We are almost ready to leave – Peter said we should leave about 2:30pm.  Our flight was scheduled to leave at 5:20pm.  I took the airline confirmations out of the folder they were in and tried to reach the airline to see if we could change our seats.  That exercise went nowhere after about 15 minutes of wait time.   I had hard-boiled eggs to eat on the plane, packed some carrots and tarelli (Italian biscuits) and packed them into my handbag.  I made it a point to take a handbag that would be large enough to hold my Kindle, my iPad and the folders of information I collected.

Tarelli

Tarelli – photo “borrowed” from Wildeastblog.com

As the clock creeped towards 3:00pm I flew into my crazy-we-got-to-go mode, barking orders to Peter and lamenting over the fact that we would not be able to greet Jade, our friend who would stay in the apartment.  Kiss the cats, grab the suitcases  and lock the door.  As it happened we met Jade coming out of the elevator as we were going down.  Quick hug and kiss, we GOT TO GO!  In the lobby the doorman stops me before I can go out and hail a taxi.  It seems I forgot to complete a form notifying the building that I have a house guest who has my permission and key to come and go.  Peter has found the mailman who was still in the building and asks him to give our mail to the front desk.

We are off!!!  And if you are wondering why I went into such great detail about my preparations, just wait till you read on.

                                                                                                  to be continued…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

Wednesday Is Prince Sphaghetti Day

Wednesday Is Prince Sphaghetti Day

I probably should have saved this for ThrowBack Thursday, I mean who remembers Prince spaghetti?  Growing up in an Italian family, I certainly do remember the macaroni products we had in our home.  My father did buy Prince spaghetti, however I clearly remember the LaRosa brand boxes of shells and I think the family favorite was Ronzoni.   When I was a young married, I always stuck with Ronzoni and because I saw my parents pour the pasta out of the pot and into a colander and then rinse it, I did the same!  I can’t remember now when I learned that was definitely NOT the thing to do!  Rinsing the pasta removes some of its flavorful starch that was released during the cooking process.  Not only do I NOT rinse my pasta, I often save a cup of the water to add to my sauces.  Specifically the pasta water is used in many of my vegetarian pasta dishes to make a thin sauce that may also have some broth, butter or oil.

Look For The Red Rose

Look For The Red Rose

What do I buy now?  I love the taste of Barilla macaroni products although so many of my Italian friends swear by De Cecco.  So recently, I purchased some De Cecco linguine and I swear it didn’t have the same flavor.  De Cecco is made in Italy so I’ll give it a few more tries and see if I like the results.

This Wednesday, even though it is STILL raw and cold outside, not to mention raining,  I thought I would try welcoming Spring into the apartment with a truly Spring-like pasta dish.  To quote Pure Wow , the site where I found this recipe by Erin McDowell; “We had a good run, soups and stews.  But as temperatures rise and flowers bloom, we’re ready to swap rich and hearty for light and fresh”.

PASTA WITH PEAS, ARTICHOKES, LEMON AND MINT

Serves 4-6  Time: 30 minutes

Ingredients

1 lb bucatini, spaghetti or other long pasta

1 1/2 cups fresh peas

12 marinated artichoke heart quarters, drained

3 TBS unsalted butter

1/2 cup grated Pecorino cheese

2 TBS lemon juice

Salt

2 TBS freshly chopped mint for garnish

Lemon zest for garnish

Directions

Cook pasta in large pot of boiling salted water, cook till pasta is al dente, 6-8 minutes (or according to package instructions). One minute before pasta is done, add the peas to the pot.  Before draining, ladle out and reserve 1 cup pasta water. 

Drain pasta and peas in colander and immediately add artichoke hearts.  Toss to combine.  

Return pasta and vegetables to the pot, then add the butter and Pecorino cheese, and toss to coat.  Add 1/2 cup of reserved pasta water to and the lemon juice, and continue tossing until the mixture forms a creamy coating.  Add additional water if needed.  Season with salt to taste.

To serve, transfer pasta to plates, and top with mint, lemon zest and black pepper.

Pasta Peas & Artichokes

Pasta Peas & Artichokes

Enhanced by Zemanta

Read Full Post »

Ambrose Lightship, South Street Seaport, Manha...

Ambrose Lightship, South Street Seaport, Manhattan, New York City (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Thursday’s Top Ten

The following is a sardonic bordering on sarcastic list of things we New Yorkers feel the need to explain to the visitors, tourists and out of towers who venture into our metropolis!   This list goes beyond my byline of “Oops I bit my tongue in chic”;  I gleaned this information from Thrillst NY. Some things just have to be ‘splained!

  1. We don’t call it “The Big Apple”, “New York” or even “NYC” – It’s The City.
  2. Everybody jaywalks – Go ahead, don’t be afraid, chances are you won’t get hit.
  3. The Italian food in Little Italy sucks – Probably because hardly any Italians live there.
  4. Cabbies don’t take advantage of tourists – They take advantage of ANYONE who doesn’t pay attention.  The answer to “Do you want to take the FDR”? is always NO.
  5. YES, it’s always this loud and NO it doesn’t bother us – For the love of God, stop covering your ears every time a subway screeches or an ambulance goes by.
  6. You have to walk faster than that – We don’t have highways, we have sidewalks.  Would you stop dead in the middle of the Interstate to take a photo of some random tall building? No? Then sweet Jesus don’t do it here.
  7. South Street Seaport is totally irrelevant – We don’t set foot on this anachronistic hell-dock unless we’re going to Beekman’s Beer Garden.  Even then we go in the back entrance to avoid the crowds of people taking photos of the man o’ war.
  8. The streets are short, the avenues are long and it’s a grid – Unless you’re in the West Village; that place is essentially a maze.
  9. That annoying TV in the back of the cab – You can turn it off, and if the credit card swipe below it doesn’t work, use the one above it.
  10. Our bars close at 4 am every nightNone of this 1 am or 2 am nonsense or “4 am on Saturdays only” – We booze it up every night till 4 am and still make it to brunch then next day.

A shout-out to Gail, who is my constant resource for  funny, weird, bizarre, interesting, and informative articles.  This one from Thrillist was a doozy!

 

Enhanced by Zemanta

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »