When I called my usual cab company, I got a nasty shock when
the guy said there was no way I could get a cab, that every cab he had was
already pre-booked. I put in a quick
request on the mobile app for Addison Lee, and worried when it told me the cab
might not be on its way for another 20 minutes.
Yet, I was pleasantly surprised when it was barely 10 minutes later that
the cab showed up, and we sped through the darkened streets of London to
Victoria Station. The cab driver even
said to me, “ I'm rather surprised you managed to get a cab at this hour, as
everyone has already booked to go to home for Christmas.” Indeed, there were mini cabs out everywhere
on the streets, and I thanked my lucky stars that somehow things had all worked
out for me. But then again, they often
do.
I got to the station, paid the driver, got my ticket and got
on the train. Got to the airport, saw a
guy I knew in the next line over for check-in, but decided not to say hello, as
I was just too off-my-face with exhaustion.
Got through security, debated buying something from Duty Free, but I just couldn't decide on anything and the prices didn't seem THAT advantageous, so I
just skipped it. Got on the plane,
thankfully at last, and just about fell asleep, straight up in my middle seat,
almost instantly.
When I landed in Venice, my Old Roommate wasn't yet there,
but after only about 20 minutes, she called me and told me where to meet her,
and so we had a happy reunion. Went back
and put my bags in the car and debated going to Venice for the day (since the
car was in Long-Term Parking), but then bagged that idea to drive back to
Aviano. It was a good chance to
catch-up, and when we got back towards Aviano, she suggested that we might grab
lunch. I was exhausted, but then also
realised that I was hungry, and so lunch suddenly seemed like an excellent
idea.
We went to a little pizza place in a town where they had
stayed while looking for permanent accommodation, and I have to admit the pizza
was truly excellent. We had prosecco
with lunch (as you do in Italy, eh?) and toasted finally seeing each other
again. Although I had to have a Diet
Coke with my lunch as well, I was so damn exhausted.
We then went to the military base, where it was a bit
interesting getting me on base, as the security at the base check-in was quite
strict. We had to park and come in to
the guard house, while they took my passport and did a ton of stuff with it. Never have I been so glad to be a US citizen,
because I can only imagine what a hassle it would have been if I were a foreign
national! However we made it through
that, and then checked out the commissary and stores.
Finally at this point we went back to the house, where I played with The Kid for a little while (it was good to see her again), my Old Roommate's three-and-a-half year-old. I've always loved The Kid, as for some reason we've just always gotten along. I hadn't seen The Kid in nearly two years, but she seemed to remember me, and she was just as much of a blast as always.
We had a dinner at home of spaghetti and meatballs, and then at around 8:30 p.m., my Old Roommate suggested that we might check out a concert that was happening at the church in the middle of town at 9 PM. So while her husband offered to watch The Kid and get her into bed, my Old Roommate and I grabbed flashlights, and set out into the darkness.
Although the night was bitterly cold (how I wished for something to cover my ears!), the town was something out of a fairytale. We wandered through silent cobblestone streets, not a car anywhere, the only noises being other people out walking, or coming from inside noisy houses and cafes were people were obviously gathering for good company and good cheer.
The Christmas lights on the buildings were something amazing, some almost like neon flashing lights, but yet somehow still less garish than things I've seen in the US. And we wandered through the quiet streets until we reached the warm, inviting glow of the main church in the centre of town, with the bell tower high above.
Inside, I once again noticed something that I'd observed at the airport, which is that to look at people, I could easily have thought myself back in New York. Although the Italian population in New York is more Sicilian (and here we were in northern Italy), there was somehow a look that I'd seen in every Long Island grocery store. Kind of funny to realise where all Americans come from.
The concert was due to start at 9 PM, and so although things got off to a late start, at ten past the hour, when the orchestra and choir filed in, I was grateful that things would be getting going soon, as I was nearly passing out, I was so exhausted at this point.
Yet, this was Italy, and so apparently every senior male in the town needed to give a little speech first. So first one old man gave a speech, then another, and yet another. And after a half-hour of speeches, when I finally thought we might get to start the concert, the first guy started talking again! As my friend said to me when I commented on this, "Welcome to Italy!" Apparently you just get used to things being done a certain way here...
Finally the concert started, and I had to admit that the music was lovely, if not at all what I expected. I'd been expecting Christmas music, and here this was a Vivaldi concert. A very good one, to be fair, but still not what I'd been expecting. Another classic characteristic, as things are often not what one expects. Not bad, but just not what you'd been anticipating, many times.
I have to admit, in my exhaustion, I nodded off quite a few times through the concert, but somehow struggled on to the end, even through the encore piece. At 11 PM we finally staggered out of the church, and made our way through the freezing cold night in the still and silent town to get back home. Yet, as we wandered the soft and still streets, it felt like something out of a movie, the sleepy little Italian village in the mountains. What a lovely place to spend Christmas.
Finally at this point we went back to the house, where I played with The Kid for a little while (it was good to see her again), my Old Roommate's three-and-a-half year-old. I've always loved The Kid, as for some reason we've just always gotten along. I hadn't seen The Kid in nearly two years, but she seemed to remember me, and she was just as much of a blast as always.
We had a dinner at home of spaghetti and meatballs, and then at around 8:30 p.m., my Old Roommate suggested that we might check out a concert that was happening at the church in the middle of town at 9 PM. So while her husband offered to watch The Kid and get her into bed, my Old Roommate and I grabbed flashlights, and set out into the darkness.
Although the night was bitterly cold (how I wished for something to cover my ears!), the town was something out of a fairytale. We wandered through silent cobblestone streets, not a car anywhere, the only noises being other people out walking, or coming from inside noisy houses and cafes were people were obviously gathering for good company and good cheer.
The Christmas lights on the buildings were something amazing, some almost like neon flashing lights, but yet somehow still less garish than things I've seen in the US. And we wandered through the quiet streets until we reached the warm, inviting glow of the main church in the centre of town, with the bell tower high above.
Inside, I once again noticed something that I'd observed at the airport, which is that to look at people, I could easily have thought myself back in New York. Although the Italian population in New York is more Sicilian (and here we were in northern Italy), there was somehow a look that I'd seen in every Long Island grocery store. Kind of funny to realise where all Americans come from.
The concert was due to start at 9 PM, and so although things got off to a late start, at ten past the hour, when the orchestra and choir filed in, I was grateful that things would be getting going soon, as I was nearly passing out, I was so exhausted at this point.
Yet, this was Italy, and so apparently every senior male in the town needed to give a little speech first. So first one old man gave a speech, then another, and yet another. And after a half-hour of speeches, when I finally thought we might get to start the concert, the first guy started talking again! As my friend said to me when I commented on this, "Welcome to Italy!" Apparently you just get used to things being done a certain way here...
Finally the concert started, and I had to admit that the music was lovely, if not at all what I expected. I'd been expecting Christmas music, and here this was a Vivaldi concert. A very good one, to be fair, but still not what I'd been expecting. Another classic characteristic, as things are often not what one expects. Not bad, but just not what you'd been anticipating, many times.
I have to admit, in my exhaustion, I nodded off quite a few times through the concert, but somehow struggled on to the end, even through the encore piece. At 11 PM we finally staggered out of the church, and made our way through the freezing cold night in the still and silent town to get back home. Yet, as we wandered the soft and still streets, it felt like something out of a movie, the sleepy little Italian village in the mountains. What a lovely place to spend Christmas.
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