Don’t Complain, Just Run!

22 06 2008

Not much space or consideration for pedestrians in Italy

My brother, a noted coffee-mug connoisseur, had a cup that warned “If you don’t like the way I drive get off the sidewalk.” There’s no question that bad drivers are everywhere – it’s just that the proportion here in Italy seems to be higher; a consequence of the cult of the guida sportiva where every Panda owner tries to take the racing line into sharp curves on ancient roads. When she went to Canada for the first time, my wife was surprised at the high percentage of people who would crawl through deserted streets at a snail’s pace, respecting all the four-way stops, and even using turn signals.

In particular, crossing the street in Italy is always a challenge. The tendency of the average driver is to estimate your expected progress at the time they will pass the intersection so that the car is able to pass 4 cm to your left or right without stopping. The problems come when the driver is distracted, especially by one or more of their cellphones. I’ve seen people controlling their Mercedes with their elbows while speaking on two mobiles simultaneously.

With all the potential perils, I tend to be very assertive when riding my bike or crossing the street: a loud “attenzione” tends to wake up the inattentive conducente. However, such an approach seems to have its dangers. The newspaper La Repubblica is reporting this morning that a pedestrian who complained about an aggressive manuever by a driver on the outskirts of Milan was grabbed by the occupants of the Audi, carried away in the car, and beaten with a baseball bat. The lesson seems to be that if they don’t hit you, just be thankful.

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When in Genoa, Bring your Baby Supplies from Home

8 06 2008

Travel Heavy

One of the constants in our marriage has been excess baggage. As we departed on our honeymoon, I discovered that two extra-large suitcases jam-packed with designer apparel, shoes, handbags, and jewelery were travelling along with us. My new wife was determined to act as an “ambasciatrice della moda italiana.” Notwithstanding her commitment to such a patriotic duty, we added new luggage filled with emergency fashions from Gallerie Lafayette after Alitalia temporarily lost everything on the way to Paris.

When we started to go on short trips with our new daughter, prepared for every eventuality, the proliferation of suitcases began to spiral out of control. Nonetheless, I resolved to travel light on our recent weekend break in Genoa. Our daughter is older, more mobile, and (almost) toilet trained – I argued – making it unnecessary to carry everything around. Anyways, there’s a food store every 15 metres in Italy so we could buy any urgent supplies for baby right there in Genoa – or so I thought.

My discovery that there are no children in Genoa started, ironically enough, on the morning that we were supposed to go to the Città dei bambini, a science discovery centre for small children. Determined to do a bit of shopping for myself, I went early to see the Olmo Bicycles factory store and some local bookshops whilst Mamma and figlia had a relaxed breakfast. I promised to get another package of diapers for nighttime and some of the Mio baby yogurt that my daughter craves in the mornings. No problem, I thought, there’s a big supermarket right near the hotel.

When I finally entered the supermarket, on my way back, I couldn’t find anything for small children. I wandered around the aisles confused as both my cellphones began to ring. It was time for daddy to come back so we could all go out together. I pleaded with one of the staff for help – surely there must be a section for baby supplies that I was overlooking. He directed me to a solitary shelf with some Pampers for newborns and two or three tins of infant formula.

“What about size 5 diapers, baby cookies, and Mio yogurt,” I asked naively.

“We don’t stock them here.” Then, turning to the curious locals who were keen to overhear everything, he decided to make a political statement: “What kind of a father comes all the way from New York without any baby supplies?”

This angered me. “Aren’t there any parents here? Don’t children eat yogurt here? What’s the story, are you all impotent in Genoa?”

No one denied it. Indeed, as I frantically ran around to the other food stores, the result was the same – nothing. I had to return to the hotel empty handed.

Genoa: not exactly the città dei bambini

On our way to the Città dei bambini, unconvinced by my account of the local shopping scene, my wife decided to take things in hand. She finally found the diapers after pleading with a clerk to rummage through the back room of the supermarket at the ferry terminal.

Now we are preparing for a trip to Canada this summer. My wife is threatening to depart with a suitcase full of bottled water just in case.

“But Canada has the most water in the world,” I say.

Si, si come Genova. Adesso ci penso io!





Maniac Bus Driver

22 05 2008

On the last bus home no one can hear you scream

Night Bus - the film

“Why don’t buses have seatbelts?” the former American comedian Arsenio Hall asked rhetorically. His answer was simple: “if you’re riding a bus, your life isn’t worth anything”.

I hate taking the bus – it’s crowded, bumpy, and here the locals have a visceral hatred for any form of ventilation. The minute the feeble air conditioning goes on, people start running up to the driver to demand that it be turned off. Now that summer is coming it’s like riding in an old running shoe.

The standard demoralizing experience gets worse when I end up taking the last bus home. You have to be at one of the main stops because, in a frantic rush to finish their shift, the drivers have a predilection for ignoring those pesky passengers wherever possible along the less brightly lit points of the route. You have to pick your seat carefully: too close to the front and you’re listening to the bus driver’s selection of 70’s Italian pop favourites for the next 2 hours – too far to the back and you feel the wheels bouncing up and down as the driver tries to reach warp speed.

Tonight, after an endless day at work, I had the bus trip from hell. Things started off predictably: the bus lurched forwards, accelerated out of the piazza, and began to sway back and forth as we took the curves at excess speed. Bags flew out of the racks above, purses rolled down the aisle, tired commuters ended up sprawled in contorted shapes – everything seemed normal. But our driver was in a real hurry this time.

After the first stop in a small town halfway along the route we were almost an hour ahead of schedule and the driver decided to press his luck. The bus plowed through the medieval streets of the town, sparks flying as it grazed parked cars on its way back to the highway.

Then we heard a bump. And how that bump made us jump! After passing along on the sidewalk – in the driver’s pursuit of the racing line for a particularly sharp curve – the rear end of the bus smashed into a balcony of a house. We all ran to the back window and saw a big chunk of bus roof lying in the centre of the road, surrounded by fragments of masonry and iron railing.

After checking the situation the driver set off, slightly chastened, at a more moderate speed and began to follow the route back to the highway. Then things got stranger.

When we were almost at the on ramp, he swung the bus around and began to retrace his route at high speed. Nobody said anything – people just looked at each other and moved their hands in signs of despair – until we came to the fateful curve for the second time. At this point, one of the passengers demanded an early release.

The rest of our ride home went smoothly but I have had it with public transport. Let Al Gore and Sting give up their private jets and take my seat on the bus, I’m driving the car to work tomorrow.





Giro d’Italia in Palermo

11 05 2008

Team Barloworld in Action

Cofidis on their way to 18th place

On Saturday life in Palermo ground to a halt for the opening stage of the Giro d’Italia, as the main cross city arterial roads were closed to allow the team time trial to take place. It was a rare sight to see the city streets free from traffic and, as an avid cyclist, it was a pleasure for me to attend a top level competition in Sicily.





Italian Tax Returns Online (briefly)

1 05 2008

State Privacy Official Ruins the Fun for Gossips and the Curious

Don’t put down anything

you wouldn’t want your neighbours to see

In a move that the outgoing Italian vice-finance minister Vincenzo Visco described as “an act of transparency, of democracy, similar to what happens elsewhere in the world,” the country’s tax office placed the names, addresses, birthdates, and above all incomes of everyone who filed a tax return in 2005. With obvious concerns about privacy and identity theft, underlined by the rapidity with which millions of curiosi caused the website to crash, the national Garante per la Privacy Francesco Pizzetti intervened to block the circulation of such confidential information. Indeed, despite Visco’s declarations, it soon became clear that there was no precedent for making tax records public in other Western countries like the US and Britain. Representatives of the incoming center-right government declared that it was a vendetta against the nation inspired by the loss of Visco’s party in the recent elections.

Before the plug was pulled, the financial records of many Italian public figures were recorded for posterity and are being openly cited by the international press. The domestic press has hastened to take their league tables of VIP earnings offline but the details of the biggest names are still available on numerous blogs and gossip sites. For the nation’s wealthy, as represented by blogosphere icon Beppe Grillo, the release of such information threatens to expose them to the attention of kidnappers and organized crime. Nonetheless, as tax police Colonel Umberto Rapetto put it, the criminal classes “probably know very well that Italian tax returns do not reveal the real wealth of taxpayers, given the high percentage of evasion.”

“Now I know why Enzo still drives that 15 year old Fiat Duna”

Despite all the remaining details about vips, gossips with more local concerns have been left frustrated by all the problems accessing the site before it went down forever. It is all very well finding out about tv stars, footballers, and fashion designers, but what people really want to know (as many conversations I overheard at a bar this afternoon made clear) is what their neighbours, colleagues, and relatives earned (or at least declared) in 2005. Thanks to the outlaws of peer to peer file sharing, the people who brought you mp3 music files and pre-release Hollywood blockbusters, the Italian press is reporting that downloaded copies of local and regional tax records have already started to circulate online.

Just don’t look at mine.





A Very Quiet Election

15 04 2008

Italians Vote for a Change,

but without much expectation of getting it

Decidi tu 2008 / You decide 2008

I was looking forward to enjoying my opportunity to vote in an Italian election for the first time. With memories of the hectic campaigning of the past, when every surface of the city would be covered in posters, mailboxes would be stuffed with flyers and you could not walk down the street without being assailed by passionate pleas for support from the candidates and their surrogates, I expected to spend a lot of time engaged in heated political debates before making an informed decision that would determine the fate of the entire nation. Yet the only electoral discussion I had this time around, when I could really make a difference, was about the inadvisability of bringing a videophone into the voting booth.

The anti-videophone measures were in place, complete with hefty fines for the unwary, to ensure that people engaging in voti di scambio (vote buying) did not take advantage of the latest technology to provide a live feed of their unscrupulous electoral choices. No such illicit activities were detected during my visit to the polling station on Monday. Apart from the electoral officials enjoying a picnic lunch alongside the ballot boxes, complete with an excellent selection of local wine, cheese, and particularly enticing pastries, I was the only member of the public there.

Despite the obvious importance of this election, coming at a time when Italy is undergoing a severe economic crisis accompanied by rampant inflation, what struck me is how little effort any of the parties made to gather votes. No candidate or political activist tried to speak with me – let alone made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Over the course of the campaign I collected a grand total of 3 leaflets for specific candidates – 2 tucked under the windshield wipers of my Fiat and 1 from the counter of a bar. I saw few posters and didn’t notice any ads on tv. Indeed, it would have been easy to forget there was a national election going on at all.





The Great “Settimana Cultura” Conspiracy

26 03 2008

The high cost of living in Italy getting you down?

Catch those pre-election discounts while you can!

For many years my family and I have looked forward to the Settimana della cultura (Week of Culture) promoted by the Italian national ministry of culture in May. The end of Spring is the best time of the year to travel around the peninsula and, given the high cost of admission to public museums and monuments, it is an opportunity to sightsee in a large group without breaking the bank. Instead of paying €6 to 8 each to see one site, we can cover all of the beni culturali (“cultural assets” in official translator English) in the area in one fell swoop. Consistent with the much lamented exponential increases in the cost of living here, the main topic of discussion in both the national media and anxious personal conversations, many culturally minded families have started to plan their vacations around the initiative. You can imagine the surprise then when we discovered last night that, in a break with tradition, the eagerly awaited week had already started!

It’s here!

setcul

The new improved March “Settimana della cultura” was first made public on the 28th of February.  It is an inspiring tribute to the integrity of what was already, after all, a lame duck government that the culture ministry was able to amass the energy to organize and promote an unexpected week of culture at a time when most of the country’s leadership might be distracted by the current national election campaign. Indeed, apart from the change in date, it is striking that the centerpiece of the 2008 pre-electoral settimana is not the usual stuffy mix of art and history but the opportunity to go to the cinema everywhere in Italy for €1, instead of the more usual €7 (as shown on the bottom left of the official poster above). It’s a shame only that none of the 3 cinemas in our town are showing anything other than the usual commercial Hollywood fare.

Hurry, it’s only an euro!

2623454933.jpg

This great temporary money saving initiative joins another state gift to working families: the month of cheap bread. From the 15th of March until the 15th of April (ie two days after the date of the national election) your friendly local bakery will be encouraged to offer special discounts on the price of bread, a commodity that has undergone sharp price increases over the past two years. If you have a large freezer, the cheap bread can feed your financially challenged family all year round as you recall the rose coloured memories of your supersaver night at the cinema!

We’ve got the bread – fill up the freezer! All we need now is the circus…

bread

Now if we could just get some “cultural” discounts on the price of gas, currently hovering around €1.42 a litre, I could afford to visit all of the museums and monuments I’ve been eager to see!