Bologna, fiascoes, and tripping the light fantastic.

OK, the last time I wrote it was at night in Bologna at The Hotel Touring. I had the bolognese and some red house wine. Then planned to walk around but was just too tired. So I crashed and got up at 8:30, had some free breakfast buffet, showered and got dressed. I checked out and held my luggage at the hotel, and walked around. My train leaves at 11, so I got some time to kill. I walked around Bologna, which by the way is a beautiful city, it has been decreed since the 1400's that all newly built sidewalks have porticoes. So it's all covered sidewalks. It lends a really cool feeling intimacy to the city. I had coffee, went and printed my ticket at the train station, and toured a small but amazing medieval museum. I still had time so I ended up at the Irish pub and had some beers with a Londoner named Perry. We talked for a while and was joined by another English speaker from the states, Kerry Gilmore. This is not a touristy town and you don't really hear any other language than Italian. So I guess, speaking english just attracts others who speak it. We hung out for a while then went looking for some dinner, Perry was a little drunk and stopped to pee, and never was seen again. He went inside some place while Kerry and I waited, and after like 20 minutes, we decided to leave, there were several exits out of the place, so we thought he left. Oh well, nice chatting Perry. We found this little place and got some wine, and met the guy next to us who is a Canadian wine importer. Cool guy, nice dinner, I had some pasta, and for a second course about a half pound pile of cavallo tartare, fresh ground horse meat, raw, with a chicken egg on top. It was pretty tasty, really mild and light. I just finished the meal and had to bounce to catch my train. I grabbed a cab, had him wait, got my shit, and went to the station to await the train, which by the way was a half hour late.


The train finally came and I was on my way to Munich to catch a flight to Portland. I was supposed to get to Munich at 6:30am, leaving me ample time to munch on some sausage and shit in Germany. Didn't happen that way. The train was delayed 3 hours because of some fire or accident or something, so we sat at a station in northern Italy for hours waiting to go. Finally we start but don't get to Munich till 9:15. So that leaves me just enough time to hop on another train to the airport. Awesome. I get to the airport at a little after ten, check my stuff. I had to go through two metal detectors, and on the second one they found my multitool which I thought I checked. With a nice sized knife on it, I was like shit, whatever, take it. And they kept asking each other something, passing it back and forth. I'm in the background, going, take it, it's fine. And then thought, shit, I hope they don't arrest my ass. Well finally the guy hands it back and says it's OK. Really? A knife on board in my carry on is cool? It doesn't make me feel that safe, but then again, if there are any terrorists, at least I'm armed, right? Anyway I find a restaurant and throw down a couple schnitzels, some rot kraut, potato salad and some sausages, not really in the leisurely manner I envisioned since I almost missed my flight in the process, and washed it all down with a tall beer, not a bad breakfast. Mind you, I've been up since yesterday morning with but a short nap all night. I made my flight and with an hour layover in Philly I was on my way to Portland.

I landed in Portland at like 9pmish and hopped on the MAX to downtown just in time to go to Zachs place of work. It's a cool, modern, nouveau Peruvian restaurant bar. Man, the food is simply splendid. Saw my old bacon chomping jewish buddy and chatted it up. He tried to convince a table of girls that my smuggled guanciale was the saved, cured, afterbirth of his son. They were sceptical but handled the package gingerly. Silly. We went back to his house and talked for a while, but at this point I had been up for days, literally, and slammed my face into the nearest pillow. Thursday I was up early and Sarah Zach's sister came over to visit, we have an arranged marriage but I don't think it's goona work out, at least unless she dumps her currrent boyfriend, cause that just might be a little weird. Anyway, I talked to my friend Chad who was at work, and Sarah and I went down to see him, Zach was doing family stuff and would join us later. So we walk in to Produce Row restaurant bar, the original McMenamins by the way, and go out back. There's just one two top out there and a server talking to them, we made brief eye contact, and I thought to myself, she looks totally familiar, she also gave me a funny look. I thought, whatever it's just Portland. Mind you, I lived in Portland collectively for ten moist years. Which means you run into people often. Its not a very big town, and fairly concentrated, so I just thought that she was someone I met in Portland. Wrong. She walks up and says point blank, I know you. Dayna! erupts forth from my mouth, Dave! from hers, we lock in embrace just in time for Chad to walk out and say, what the fuck!? How do? Uh, I.......What? Well turns out, she is my former homemate from about thirteen years prior when I lived in Santa Cruz. And well, I haven't seen her since, until now...Trippy shit my friends, what a small west coast. Anyway we sit down and get joined by friend after friend until there is just a happy reunion of fine folks talking shit, laughing, drinking, and catching up on lots of old and new stories. It was a lovely time. Ooooh! Let us not forget that at about 8 several of us left to go to Zach's to chop up some guanciale into a fresh carbonara we hand crafted to go along with some wine and cheese he got at Pastaworks. More chatting and merriment ensued until the wee hours of the morn. The next morning I had some breakfast at Broders, the Swedish breakfast joint, with my lil' nigs Ryan Neal and his brother Erik. Fantastic food and better company. I had some baked eggs, with Swedish cheese and romesco sauce, with some of the best bacon ever on the side, and some walnut bread toast. Oh my shit, it was good. I did like a mini Portland breakfast/brunch tour while I was here, and let me tell you that Portland is an amazing food destination every bit as delicious as Vegas, often times more so, and a lot fuckin cheaper. 90% of these restaurants are one owner small joints with people that love food, its amazing man, you know you leave a place and forget cool little shit like this that you took for granted for years, dumb. But cool to come back to. I also went to Tasty and Sons, ridculous, and Pine State Biscuits, for a fried chicken, egg, bacon, cheese, and sausage gravy breakfast sandwich. Can you say dick in the dirt? Now I really can.

Anyway my time in Portland was great, I saw a lot of just really great people, and had a relaxing rainy time. It was perfect, thanks Zach and Angie, Chad and Erin, and Bryan Wolf for the hospitality. And next time you want to play the game again Bryan (is this spelled right?) I am more than willing to kick your ass again. Rum and cokes and board games=fun.

However this morning I flew to Puerto Rico, long flight brethren, where I'm sitting now in Old San Juan. Just had a mojito and a mixed seafood mofongo, smashed cooked green plantains shaped in a bowl, filled with shrimp, fish, octopus, mussels, clams, and finished in a spicy creole tomato sauce. My mouth and belly don't deserve this brand of good. Despite that I stuffed my face readily with it anyway. So good... Its nice here, tonight its like humid but 70 degrees with a nice breeze. Sweet. Tomorrow I fly to St. Thomas via Seaborne Airlines and we'll see what happens then won't we?

Leaving Italy, for now........

Well, Rome is behind me, and the future lies ahead. Lets recap shall we. I had my birthday, it was a great time. The BBQ never happened, Zizi lost his phone on the night of my birthday which I forgot about, so Tuesdee, I tried calling his ass, and no answer. I tried like three times to no avail. Getting worried about missing it, I talked to Sabrina the front desk manager at the hostel, and she was like, he'll be here in an hour, he's working. Wtf. Well he forgot about the previous schedule change because of an upcoming wedding, oh well. Anyway, the last week was cool, had some good times. Alex, one of the servers I worked with, and the least English speaking of the bunch (really he doesn't speak english, he keeps saying in question format mind you, " I like wine?" meaning, "You like wine?" he has a problem with first person shit)  anyway he has a problem pronouncing some words too, so when he greeted a five top of Canadian guys with "Hey gays! (guys)" I almost peed, and it became a running joke. Hi gays!! So funny.

 When I left Rome, I took the train to Firenze, aka Florence, just stopped for a bit, ate a 1Kg bistecca alla Fiorentina, how could one not right? Shit was tasty. Florence is awesome. It had one of the coolest markets ever. I love to cook, right? I wish I could shop in such a place on a daily basis, it was beautiful. The duomo kicked ass, just really mellow and beautiful. I was intending to head to Bordeaux, Ventimiglia, then Nice for the night train to Bordeaux. Well I've since learned that the national pastime of France is striking. God damn, these motherfuckers love it! I got to Ventimiglia with the intent of going to Nice to catch the night train to Bordeaux. Well upon arrival, guess what? the border was closed because they were on strike. So I spent the night in Ventimiglia. There was a little hotel across the street from the station, so I grabbed a room, freshened up and went for a long walk down the water front at nine pm. It was beautiful, I saw some swans swimming in the ocean, just hanging out, awesome. Its a slow little town, but still had folks dining at ten on the water. A far cry from Rome, 90% of the shit was closed, when in Rome, at that time festivities would just be getting started, and just barely at that. I walked and hit the sack early, I was still full from that monster bistecca I mowed on in Florence. I decided to catch the early train to Nice to get the mid morning train to Bordeaux. The next morning I had a pastry and some coffee to get going, it was like five, to hop on the train to Nice at 6. I get to the station all packed and ready to roll and guess what? The lady last night said the next train to Nice was at six. Nope, now its 8. Fan-fuckin-tastic! Now I get the opportunity to hang out at the station for two whole hours when I could've been checkin out sunrise on the med with some more tasty vittles than I've previously enjoyed, perfect! So I spent a rather lovely two hours chillin, and I say chillin cause it was fuckin cold; the sun didn't pop its head out till, like 8:30? Neato... Anyway finally I hop on the train to Nice, well it stops and I'm thinkin it's Nice, and almost missed my connection there because I was in Monaco, but they switched info on the overhead to French, I had no idea what was goin on. That being said, every country I've ever been to, I enjoy, and expect of myself to study enough of the language to at least survive. Well not French. I thought it would be a direct thing, and my buddy Dave has lived in France for 11 years, so I thought, I don't need to know anything, and when we hook up, I'll learn shit then. That did not work out. I got to Nice finally and the train that was in my Eurail train schedule book didn't exist. No train. It was ten, and the next train was at 6, in the morning, the next day. Another night stranded. No.. No I say.. Fuck that shit.. I went to Europecar, rented a Renault Clio, and drove 8 hours across France and made that shit that night.. Thats right, sounds badass I know, I am badass. BUT..... imagine trying to find road signs, highways, getting gas, snacks, asking directings (no map), and generally feeling like a non speaking foreign asshole the whole time. Spendid.. Actually it wasn't that bad, I left the car place and was like, shit what now? They gave me a map, but it was just for Nice. However it was big enough to show me the right (I thought) highway. A8. It worked and got me on my way. I knew I had to head to Marseilles, and well, thats about it. It gave me a few hours to figure out my next move. I stopped for gas past Marseilles, I figured my way through sense of direction, the Eurail train map and signs. Oh by the way, French road tolls are expensive and suck ass both simultaneously. Rock. I had to write down my pump number on a piece of paper for getting gas, because, I don't know french numbers. It was silly. My tactic was, guesstimate the price, and pay well over, it worked. Oh and french roadside gas station food is really great! Shit we would never find in a gas station. Let your imagination run wild with that one. Well I got there, earlier than the train could've by the way, driving though the amazingly beautiful coutryside, saw the Rhone valley, castles, and me and my buddy Dave spent a few days feasting on raclette, rabbit (which by the way is available in every market, France and Italy, big beautiful, naturally low fat, chubby bunnies, ripe for the cookin (head on), for like 7 euros, why is this shit not available in the states?, dumb, and perhaps in person, if you ask, I'll tell you about the rabbit brain I ate and fed to Dave too), fois gras, wine, beer, KFC (I know, shut up) baguettes (for something in the neighborhood of .39 euros each) and escargot. After 11 years in France he still had not had any snails, foolishness. But he loved it, and rightfully so. We spent some time walking around the Bordeaux center, which is really nice, and I had my first Croquet Monsieur. Yummy. Two days later we went to Lacanau, the famous French surf spot. Chilled out, had a few beers, and saw one of the most mind blowing sunsets in creation. Man it was just, what, the shit?, spectacular?, words can't describe that brand of world nature perfection, it really was just overwhelming. I need to come back here and hit those waves too, they looked good. The next day I did a lone adventure into town and munched on a delicacy that my buddy Eli has talked about for years. A lamb merguez sausage and french fry sandwich on baguette with mayo. So delicious... Man... really..And it was like 5 bones, AND! was huge!, Great deal. Oh by the way, a note on wine in France. The shit is cheaper then a motherfucker! Like at the grocery store, 90% is under 2 euros, Chilean, of course French, Gewurtz, Italian, name it. Its like 1.39 euro, and a million times better than fuckin two buck chuck. Amazing. Bottled water cost more. Not only would I have the biggest wine cellar in the Eastern hemisphere if I lived here, I would probably be the biggest wino as well, seriously, its ridiculous.


After my time in France I tried to get out, and believe me getting out of France is just as hard as getting in. Striking bastards. The trains are on an open ended strike, so I thought I'd fly on Tuesday. Well Tuesday starts the airline strike. Thanks at least for the heads up, right? No fuck you. It has been a nightmare trying to schedule a trip out of here. Man. I finally booked a Ryanair flight to Bologna, at least its closer, and Italians are not on strike, but had a bitch of a time trying to get a train because Trenitalia's foreign credit card system is on the fritz. Sweet, hitch hiking? shit was lookin that way. Well this morning I finally got an overnight from Bologna to Munich booked tomorrow night, and caught my flight, ya know what? I was looking out the window flying over the alps, and I thought to myself, "Italy, back to my comfort zone". Weird huh? Two months ago I didn't speak a word, but after France and such lack of communication, the culture and language of Italy is comfortable, I've become used to it, I can get by, its cool. Tonight I'm in Bologna and have already had the best bolognese ragu I've ever had. I'm storing my luggage at the hotel and spending all day cruising around Bologna, eating, seeing things, and living. I hop on my train tomorrow night at eleven and arrive at Munich at 6:30 in the am. Sausage and beer for breakfast? Yes please. But it still will be sad to leave Italy. I love it.

Happy Bidet

Yes, my birthday, I'm at work, but taking off early. Uhh, yeah. Almost gone soon from Rome on to the next thing. I'm going to see about an open ended type of deal at work, maybe I'll come back next year, who knows. But right now I'm pretty much ready to go. I think if I had a real place, where I could cook and sit on a couch it would be a more real living experience. Ya know? But enough of that. Lets see this week I just worked really, met people, talked, had some bad ass oxtail ragu rigatoni, and roasted veal breast. I've found this place thats like 5 blocks away that has more traditional Roman fare, its delicious. Very delicious, offal stew anyone? Perhaps for lunch tomorrow. Can't wait. I am going to my friend Zs house on Tuesday (he's the black Rhode Island Roman, remember?) to BBQ, he's buying I'm cooking, a semblance of normalcy, very excited about that. I think then I'll leave here Wed. morning to Florence for the day, then the night in Genoa? We'll see. On to Bordeaux after that. Then Munich. Fly to Portland, then the islands.

Pissants, racketball, and the horse you rode in on

Well, well, well... Hi... Life has been pretty routine, walking around a lot, working. School ended on Friday, so no more of that, went out last night to say goodbye to my Estonian classmate with Paul and the Swedish contigent. But it's been pretty mellow. I've been reading a lot, my sister Michelle gave me the book The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, which I really knew nothing about, so after a few weeks here, I felt like a relaxing night in and opened her up. Shit. What a great book, thanks Mish, I've been a man obsessed. It's like 650 pages or so, which I devoured in 3 days. Then the next day I bought the second, all of similar length mind you, 650-750ish pages, which I finished in 2 days, and bought and read the last one as well. I ended it last night. So basically i've been reading a great deal this last week. So if you like crime, murder mystery, intrigue books, get these and lose yourself for a while, Stieg Larsson was a fantastic author and the books are addictive. I was torn between not wanting the books to end, and wanting my life back.


Yesterday I went to Pompeii and Naples. Pompeii is amazing, the site is so huge, and the frozen people are creepy. But it was beautiful. Naples is cool, totally different feel than Rome, but tasty pizza, whats that place called in Vegas, the Naples pizza joint, it was really just like that. But I gotta admit, I think I like Roman style better. Super thin and crispy, almost like a thin cracker. The standard one person size is like 14 inches, but its so thin one person can gobble that shit right up, and believe me I have. My favorite is the Capriciosa, which has proscuitto, olives, artichoke, hard boiled egg, and sometimes salami. Sounds weird perhaps, but really, it's the shit. Also had a Naples specialty coffee called Nocello, it's espresso with sugar and some kind of cream, it was nice. What else, ohh, had some fish lasagna the other day, un-fuckin-worldly, omg, and I mean that, OMG!!, !!....!

It's Sunday at about 5, everyone going to the Abbey for football, I don't really feel like going,hmmmm. I guess i'll post this and see if I can get motivated, only a week left here, and really only can hang on weekends. I don't know, we'll see. I'll let you know, we'll learn more next post, and until then, be the ball Danny.

Slainte and salute

After the walk home I woke up with a tiny blond Zara's face an inch from mine talking in a very loud high pitched heavily accented voice "Are you sleeping?" To which if govanuh would have been added I probably would have peed myself laughing. She's like 6? and a spoiled little princess indeed, but also cute as hell. I got out of bed, showered, had a coffee, and hopped on a train back to Rome. The rest of the day was pretty chill, after all I had both work and school starting tomorrow, did I tell you as soon as my contract was signed I walked two blocks to Dilit International language school and slapped down 500 euros for 3 weeks of 2-4:45pm Monday through Friday intensive Italian? No? Well I did. Tired on a school night, I went to bed early. My first week went pretty fast actually, work at 11:00am to 2:00pm, school from 2 till 4:45 and work from 5 to 11ish, long days, but not really hard work you know? Fun really. Everyone in school is pretty cool, there's like 14 people in class, a lot of Swedes, a nun, an older American guy, an Irish playwright from Belfast, just a pretty eccentric group, but we laugh a lot. It feels like a break from work, not work. I'm actually communicating pretty good in Italian now after just a week. Last Saturday I was ready for two days off, from both work and school. I left the room for lunch and a read and ran into Marco, Charlie, Claudia and Luigi (Franceco's son, in town from law school in London) they invited me to hang so I joined them at this totally off the tourist radar local place that featured something like 40 Italian microbrews, very modern cool place down some alley that you would never see, I didn't, Marco had to come find me. It was cool. After a few beers (so much for the read) I met Tad at Scholars Irish Pub by the Piazza Veneto, and hung out in the snook and watched some football, yes soccer. In case you don't know what the snook is, it's a nook in a bar, a little private room, this one with its own TV. So when the bar is packed, and it was, you get a seat and your own little room to hang out in, no crowds. Compliments of the owner Decklan who Tad and friends are friends with. I hung out with Ian, the aforementioned Liverpoolian archeologist, Tad, Kevin from North London, Dave from Tipperary and yours truly. We were there for a few hours, we saw Liverpool play, all fans, lucky David wasn't there, then Tad and I went to the Yellow for a minute then back to his place for a few beverages and to wait for Justin to join us. Tads girlfriend got a job nannying from 10am Saturday to 10am Monday live in on weekends, so he was ready to party. By the way she might quit beacause the 4 and 6 year olds she's babysitting have to be spoonfed. Not cause they are handicapped they're just that fucking spoiled, can you believe that, they shout "Ho fame! (I'm hungry)" and just lean back and open their mouths, what little assholes. Anyway, after Justin came we went for some late night Argentinian food, yummy. The next day I said I would be back at Scholars for the Manchester game, but decided to sleep in and missed the game, oh well. I did go though and then afterwards we went to The Abbey Theatre to watch the Bears/Cowboys game, in Rome, in an Irish pub, I know. Not that i'm a big sportsfan, but it was fun anyway. Met more expats, is it true that they are all English teachers and tourguides?, yes it is. I chatted up a very cute Scottish cocktail girl named Cory, she said I was the highlight of her night, mmmm, out of town but back next weekend, The Abbey anyone? OK....and then had a pretty early night, back to work and school tomorrow.

More adventures

Well i've settled a bit, and have met some more really colorful people like Ian the heavy accented Liverpool archeologist tourguide, and lots of hot young swedish language school chums. Life's not too bad. I finished my first week at work last week. My actual title is consultant. Still lots to be done but have improved the looks of the restaurant quite a bit, candles, stemware, flatware's coming, new piazza, menus on the way,etc. David the new GM from Manchester and I have done some good so far. We've upped the check average some 20% and rising and tips too. We're getting a lot of comments like "the best restaurant we've been to in Italy" from people who have been here for weeks. Repeat business from people for like 5-7 days in a row, every night. Not bad for a total of 8 days of actual work. Pretty cool. Lets not get ahead of ourselves quite yet though some background is necessary. Join me. Lets go back. Alright, not last weekend but the one before I was invited by David to come hangout in Bracciano where he lives, to get to know each other more personally. Not in a gay way alright, you filthy minded bastards. So I took the metro line A from the Termini to Valle Aurelia past the Vatican, then hopped on a train to Bracciano. A cool little town about forty clicks north of Rome on a like named lake, you got it, Lake Bracciano. A medieval castle dominates the center of town, you media whores might know it (Monica) because it's where Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise got married. Anyway it is rather lovely. I called David and he met me at the train and we walked a few blocks where I met his wife and 3 children (Sasha, Leo, and Zara) and some other friends of his from the U.K. We went to his house to watch a little Man United and see the awesome lake view from his back yard. We had some pasta for lunch, kids wildy running everywhere, with heavy British accents by the way, then met his friends and went down to the lake for swimming and a few beers. It was really nice, loads of wind and kite surfers as well as sailboats on the lake, beautiful, albeit a little windy, great for them, though, the water however felt great. We chilled and talked and I played in the water with Sasha, Davids oldest boy at about, what, ten-twelve I guess. He kept talking to me about being an adventurer and I told him some of mine, he was impressed (at least someone, eh?) so I gave him my pocket SAS survival guide, which he was glued to the rest of the day. We'd been at the lake for hours and were talking about dinner, so decided to go to a hamlet called Calcata for dinner. Off the path enough it wasn't in my guidebook. Now get online and check it out, fuckin awesome. At about 30 km from Bracciano this place is a castle on a spit jutting out in a curve of a river valley. The cliff face it's built on drops like a thousand feet straight down on three sides into the valley to the river, which you can't see hidden in the trees below, but can still hear. It is a very well preserved castle, with a narrow entranceway, about eight feet wide, with tiny up and down narrow streets that looks just like a page out of the Lord of the Rings, except that in the castle, all the little areas and nooks, are apartments and shops, restaurants, bars, and artists lofts, all in the actual castle and built in fortified town. It's pretty small, probably something like 30 apartments, and ten businesses, you can walk across it in ten minutes, but it is amazing. Its claim to fame is that supposedly Jesus' foreskin was held in the church for 500 years, only to be stolen from the Pastor's house in 1983, some claim it was the Vatican. We had a delicious dinner with some good wine, I had stewed rabbit and cornish hen, and had a great night out. After dinner we went back to Bracciano, it was late, and David his buddy and girl went to the local irish pub and exchanged stories for a few hours. It was long enough that we all got hungry again but nothing was open except for a kebab shop that was about a k and half in the opposite direction, we weren't driving and already had to walk about 2k home, so said fuck it lets go. We parted ways and saw some lights like two blocks away, David was like "I smell hamburgers!", and he did too, there was a new place that had opened up that he was unaware of so we called the others, they came back, and snacks ensued. They all had burgers, but there's nothing like a bistecca alla Fiorentino at 4 in the morning.

Rome still....

Alright, where was I? Its been a few days so let me think.... Okay, so after the meat inspection I sat down with the extended family and the cooks cut up and prepared something like all of the twenty pounds of meat samples. So platter after platter of veal, beef and lamb is coming to the table and needless to say I was stuffed and didn't eat again til the next day at lunch. Anyway the rest of the day was chill. So like Tuesday I got a sore throat. Not bad but stupid none the less. So for a few days really just hung out and relaxed. On Wednesday, after lunch with Fabio, the manager from the hostel, and Andy Steves (Rick Steves son) walked into the Trastevere, which is a cool not to touristy neighborhood. It was overcast and started to sprinkle, whatever I thought, but this "light" sprinkle turned into a raging torment complete with 30 mph+ winds in all of about 4 minutes. Torrential. I was soaked, trying to hide behind trees, I was right next to the Tiber river (the same river on which Romulus and Remus went for a splash, do you know this? Look it up!!) which is lined by trees and sidewalks and there is no cover what so ever. And none near either. So I gave up on the Trastevere, and started walking back to the metro. Heres the bonus though, strolling through (and at this point whats the rush i'm not getting any wetter) Romes winding streets alone and clean and fresh, it wasn't really cold, but everyone just vanished. Frightened of the rain, huddling indoors I suppose, but who cares it was beautiful. No crowds no people. Didn't help my cold, but oh well, better now, and it was worth it. On Friday I got my contract signed. In Italy you write a contract with your demands and then see if it is approved. I wrote up a fairly juicy contract and F and I went over it, which took a few days of waiting and wandering around Rome trying to get lost (Tues-Thurs). It was pretty easy. It's a big city. Ate food, relaxed, saw some sights, two days later made it to the Trastevere, cool neighborhood, complete with beautiful meat shops with cured chunks of pig hanging everywhere. Just like on TV!! Very Italian. Then on Friday got signed, got some cash. Basically i'm getting free room and free meals at the restaurant, and bar, and five grand. Not to mention living in Rome for a month. So some changes in travel plans and no wedding in Kansas or pizza in Chicago, but a unique experience that I couldn't say no to. All for just bestowing my endless restaurant knowledge on a open minded, vibrant culture, that wants to have a service standard as high as mine. Take that Tysn!