Guest Blogger- Jessica from Why Go Italy
Jessica, who is a dear blogger friend, fellow Italophile and the author of the WhyGo Italy travel site, shares my passion for Italy. And for travel. So naturally, she is a perfect fit for a guest post on My Melange.
I asked her to tell us about her early days of falling in love with Italy…and here is what she wrote:
My traveling career started in college, when I was fortunate enough to spend a month touring New Zealand and Australia with my choir, and then even luckier to spend a semester studying at Nottingham Trent University in England. I've loved travel ever since, but until I got to Italy I'd been awfully fickle about it.
Let me explain.
After returning home from England, I declared myself an Anglophile. I couldn't get enough of Brit-pop, desperately missed the cider-and-lager concoction called a "Snakebite" that I'd enjoyed in the campus pubs, found myself occasionally saying "ta" in place of "thanks," and lamented the fact that no one was calling me "love" anymore.
After returning home from England, I declared myself an Anglophile. I couldn't get enough of Brit-pop, desperately missed the cider-and-lager concoction called a "Snakebite" that I'd enjoyed in the campus pubs, found myself occasionally saying "ta" in place of "thanks," and lamented the fact that no one was calling me "love" anymore.
That affection for England, however, lasted only until my next trip many years later.
In 1999, I spent just over two weeks with my then-boyfriend (now-husband) and four of our closest friends chasing the Tour de France. The three boys in the group were all cyclists and cycling fans, and I'd become a fan as well, so it was a truly memorable trip.
In 1999, I spent just over two weeks with my then-boyfriend (now-husband) and four of our closest friends chasing the Tour de France. The three boys in the group were all cyclists and cycling fans, and I'd become a fan as well, so it was a truly memorable trip.
And, predictably, upon my return I was a Francophile to the core. I started taking French classes through the local community college (a language I'd dabbled in back in high school and then mostly forgotten), taught myself to like French wines (before that I hadn't liked wine at all), got lost in French films, and plotted return visits to see my French cousins.
I'm guessing you can see a pattern developing here.
So, it shouldn't come as any surprise to you that when my still-then-boyfriend and I took his younger sister to Italy in 2001 as a high school graduation present, I fell head-over-heels madly in love with the country.
So, it shouldn't come as any surprise to you that when my still-then-boyfriend and I took his younger sister to Italy in 2001 as a high school graduation present, I fell head-over-heels madly in love with the country.
In the case of Italy, though, the infatuation has never worn off – not even after subsequent trips to other places.
Italy captured my heart on that trip in a way that is hard to put into words. Our arrival point was Venice, and when your first impression of Italy is a city like Venice, it's really hard to not fall in love with it.
Italy captured my heart on that trip in a way that is hard to put into words. Our arrival point was Venice, and when your first impression of Italy is a city like Venice, it's really hard to not fall in love with it.
But beyond that, there is something about Italy which, to this day, has taken hold and isn't about to let go. Since that first trip, we've returned many times, and we're even midway through the process of obtaining a long-term visa and – eventually, we hope – permessi di soggiorno, or permits to stay. We just hope Italy loves us as much as we love it.
One moment I remember from that first trip (which, although it isn't the reason I fell in love with Italy, does help showcase one of the things I love so much about it) was in the train station in Pisa. We were en route from the Cinque Terre to Florence, and making the requisite two-hour stop to see the famous leaning tower. We had checked the tower off our to-do list and were waiting for our train to Florence when we decided to call our expat friends north of Venice to give them an update on our status.
But, being the hapless tourists we were, we couldn't figure out the phone.
Our expat friends had given us one of those phone cards where you break off the corner and insert it into the slot on the payphone. It was a used card a former guest had left her, so she passed it on to us. But it wasn't working. We kept trying, doing exactly what we thought it said on the card and the machine, and we got nowhere.
Our expat friends had given us one of those phone cards where you break off the corner and insert it into the slot on the payphone. It was a used card a former guest had left her, so she passed it on to us. But it wasn't working. We kept trying, doing exactly what we thought it said on the card and the machine, and we got nowhere.
Finally, an older gentleman walked by us on the train platform. He paused, saw we were having difficulty, and did a U-turn to come back to us.
He helped us figure out the phone issue (the card turned out to be all used up, so it wasn't our stupidity after all), and then when I thanked him in Italian he said, "Oh, you speak Italian?"
He helped us figure out the phone issue (the card turned out to be all used up, so it wasn't our stupidity after all), and then when I thanked him in Italian he said, "Oh, you speak Italian?"
"Un piccolo," I said – a little.
I was proud I could use what little language skills I had, until I saw him shaking his head.
"No, no, no," he said, "Piccolo is for kids. You would say un po' in this case."
"No, no, no," he said, "Piccolo is for kids. You would say un po' in this case."
I was embarrassed to have gotten it wrong, but his correction came with a broad smile, a word of encouragement about my Italian, and a cheerful "arrivederci" before he went on his way.
That story remains near and dear to my heart for several reasons. First and most obviously, because no matter how badly you speak Italian in reality, the Italians are – almost to a person – ridiculously flattering about your language skills and always ready and willing to give you polite corrections if you make mistakes. They know, on some level, that there really isn't a point to learning Italian, and are happy that you're trying.
But more than that, it displays the open arms with which I've always been received by Italy, from that first visit to my most recent.
But more than that, it displays the open arms with which I've always been received by Italy, from that first visit to my most recent.
I've continued to make mistakes with Italian, and will probably always do so. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
This girl is now, and always will be – no really, I mean it this time – an Italophile.
This girl is now, and always will be – no really, I mean it this time – an Italophile.
–
About the Author
Jessica Spiegel is a travel writer who works for the BootsnAll Travel Network and writes the Italy travel guide, WhyGo Italy. Photo is of a gondola stand in Venice and is courtesy of the author. It may not be reproduced without permission.
Online Hotel Reservations
CHEAP HOTELS IN ITALY & FRANCE
Friends & Supporters
March 20th, 2009
Hey Jessica! So many similarities!! Venice was also the first Italian city I ever visited. And I wowed the locals with my extremely rusty Italian. I had only studied at home with books and cassettes, just because I loved the way it sounded (and also because I had, ahem, a “friend” that I wanted to impress). Anyway, I happened to find myself in a quaint little square where there were kids playing soccer. Just like out of a Chef Boyardee ad! So the kids saw us staring and came over to talk to the foreigners. They asked me if I spoke Italian and I said, “Un poquito”. They couldn’t stop laughing!
How’s it going with the paperwork? Hope we can go to San Siro together soon!
March 20th, 2009
Nicely said, piccola! (hee hee)
March 20th, 2009
Oh I can so relate.
Italy shocked me in that I wasn’t an Italophile when I came here for the first time three years ago. I’ve been to other countries yet this crazy place grabbed my heart and my head.
I quit my job and moved to Rome three years to the month of that first visit.
You are so right about the language. I went to Paris with 7 years of studying french under my belt. I was so intimidated by the Parisian attitude every time I opened my mouth that I just gave up. This was in late 80s so maybe things have changed.
In Italy with only a few months of Italian a completely different story. I wanted to keep trying and as a result I picked up the language faster. Still not fluent but I’m working on it.
Good luck with your paperwork!
March 20th, 2009
Thanks for the comments, & thanks to Robin for posting this story. It’s good to know I’m not alone in these experiences – which only confirms my love for Italy.
As for the paperwork, we have our year-long visas in hand, & now have to plot our next trip to Milan to apply for a permesso. Baby steps. Or baby hurdles, more accurately. But I’m feeling good about the progress we’ve made so far!
March 20th, 2009
Wow this made me laugh so much…Drinking SNAKEBITE….that must of been sometime ago…Not sure they are allowed to serve it anymore…Your affection for England didn’t last long…
I know which country I would love to live in…shaped like a boot 
March 20th, 2009
See? I love them. After all these years, stories like that fill my heart and make me all teary. GET OVER HERE, GIRL!
March 20th, 2009
(And that goes for both Jessica and Robin!!)
March 20th, 2009
I think you’re right, Anne, I vaguely recall hearing that they aren’t allowed to serve Snakebites anymore. Can’t remember why.
And by “that must’ve been sometime ago” – are you trying to insinuate that I’m old?!?
March 20th, 2009
Uh, no YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!! HU-LO!!!!
And thank YOU by the way.
March 20th, 2009
Anne, can’t say that I’d drink anythink called SNAKEBITE. Just doesn’t sound like a pleasant experience
March 20th, 2009
Ha!! Yes, we are trying- well Jess is a little further along than I am- but hey- I’ll be over, albeit just for a week, in just TWO SHORT MONTHS (and yes, I am hashin’ off squares on the calendar- day by day)!
March 20th, 2009
Why yes, I believe she was. Call a spade a spade, Jess! (spoken from the spade that is FIVE whole years your elder) Just kidding- trying to stir up a little Friday afternoon controversy
March 20th, 2009
Great post Jessica!
I never knew the story behind your love affair with Italy and now I know. It is always fun to hear how people fell head over heels in love with Italy.
I really hope there is a time in the very near future when we all find ourselves meeting up for drinks somewhere in Italy!
March 22nd, 2009
My friends and I go to a British Pub here in Los Angeles, and she always orders a Snakebite….it does not look appetizing to me at all, but she loves them. I so, would love to visit England, but Italy is my true love also!
Name and email required. Your email will not be shared.