Last day Saturday, Apr 19 2008

Milan completely overwhelmed me. Coming from the Slovene countryside where I learnt about alpine dairy farming and fantasised about camping under the starry nightsky (albeit only when warmer), the fashionably busy Milanese population shoving me in and out of the human traffic terrorised me.

We noticed the following:

1. Instant makeover for people wearing huge sunglasses that cover half their faces. I think we should all invest in a pair. Of course, if one cannot look half decent even with half the face covered, then…sorry.
2. Goodlooking men dating plain janes. I firmly believe that’s only right. There is hope yet for me! Notwithstanding my crippling shyness when it comes to cute men (see earlier entry).
3. More Asians in Milan than the sum total we’ve seen in the rest of Italy. Though we did see a Chinese restaurant in Ljubljana.
4. Too many annoying Italian youths. “I thought they had a low birth rate! Where did all these people come from!”

Tomorrow we fly home. Thereafter, Poach and I will write retrospectively on our trip memories.

It’s difficult to imagine ending this holiday – already! But certainly, I’m glad to be going home – to my dog, my bed, dependable weather and to a certain extent, the feeling of owning my space, rather than intruding on someone else’s as a curious tourist.

Anyway the trip has satisfied my hypothesis that Italian men are overrated. Besides those dating plain Janes. Those I like.

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No luck Friday, Apr 18 2008

“I have seen more cute boys than you!” Poach is so smug I want to strangle her. And I have tried, several times.

Mainly she is referring to the cute chef we saw at Bohinj, at this lovely restaurant called Rupa. The chef asked, “Where are you from?” I was in the washroom and Poach was outside waiting. Unlikely location for a pick-up. I missed the entire exchange. Poach did not say a word about the fabulous meal that we just had. Or ask for his contact. Or mention how cute her good friend is. Or even try to stall him with mundane small talk so I could also join in the conversation and look at his “gorgeous eyes.” That traitor.

“I did see him,” I later protested, when she showed off her intimate interaction with Chef Boy. I caught a glimpse of him right before we went downstairs to the washroom but I was so shy that I didn’t dare take a closer look or even smile at him.

The same way I was so shy that I didn’t dare even take a picture (from a distance) of the cute Vegetable Boy at the Venice produce market. Or look at the Counter Boy at a Venetian Rostecceria except through the reflection off the shop window.

Grand ambitions for a holiday fling aside, I have let myself down. Even Poach has managed a decent (albeit useless) conversation with Chef Boy. What do I have? Creepy old men at distant Slovenian villages trying to get me drunk with blueberry liquor and then cop a feel with a goodbye hug.

Sigh. I accept my place in life. Cute boys are not mine.

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Air in my hair Thursday, Apr 17 2008

When in Venice, Ming, Poach and I started this silly tradition of doing jumping pictures. This is the latest.

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Fairytale destination Thursday, Apr 17 2008

Bled was supposedly the most popular tourist destination in Slovenia. And for good reason I suppose. The castle in on a treacherous cliff. The church in the middle of the lake. The fresh air. The feeling of HOLIDAY.

Admittedly, I was suffering from a little travel fatigue, especially after Venice. (More about Venice another time perhaps, what in my mind reminds me of Vegas.) But after a refreshing stop in Ljubljana, Bled was a new beginning. A dream.

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Amore Del Amici Sunday, Apr 13 2008

Poach is now blogging about Bologna (I think). Ming is standing around the Internet Cafe, waiting patiently for us blogger types to make sense of our holiday together. My friends are lovely. Conversation over lunch:

“When I was in the US, I introduced myself as Po. It doesn’t matter, I’m not so fussed about my name.”

5 minutes later, Ming asked, “Can I call you Popo?”

“No.”

Ming: [whine] Why? Popo is such a cute name!

Poach: No.

Me: But you just said that you’re not fussed about your name!

Poach: …

Ming: Hah that came back to bite you hard quite quickly huh?

Poach: Yes it did.

The day before, I claimed that bringing Poach and Ming together was such a bad idea, as they tended to gang up together against me. Now perhaps it isn’t such a bad idea. As I told Ming, we’re together in this now.

We passed a street called Calle Amore Del Amici. It means Street of Love Between Friends. We took a picture.

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Holiday fling Thursday, Apr 10 2008

“Excuse me, Miss?” He had a distinctive Italian accent and seemed really shy.

“Yes?” I saw that he was holding a camera, and thought he wanted my help in taking a picture of him and his friends. His friends were crowded right behind him.

“Can I take a picture with you?”

“…” I had a split second to decide if he was perhaps being ungrammatical, and meant taking a picture FOR HIM. Then I decided unlikely. So I said, “NO.” And swiftly made my exit.

His friends behind him erupted into laughter. “No! She said no!”

I felt sorry for him. Alas, my abrupt refusal has its reasons.

First of all, he looks like he’s 15 at the oldest. Second, as superficial as I may sound, he is not what one might consider the stereotypical Hot Italian Holiday Fling Material. Instead, one might consider him the stereotypical Awkward 15 Year Old.

Still, it’s funny. As I told later told Poach, it’s the first time I’ve been picked up by a 15-year-old. Better late than never, right?

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In the beginning Thursday, Apr 10 2008

This is Poach’s third time in Italy and my first. As a first timer, I am understandably highly excitable. Look! Hills! Look! Houses! Look! Italian men! Where are the Vespas! Oh Ferragamo! Oh GELATO!

Poach advised during a lull in the programme, “In some places, there may be people who will try to engage you in conversation, and then find an opportunity to pickpocket you.”

“Oh, then what should I do? Shall I look completely grumpy so that they’ll find me completely unapproachable?”

“Yes that is a good idea. Be grumpy.”

“Even though I am an eager tourist deep down.”

“Yes.”

So yes I may look grumpy in my (yet to be uploaded) photos. But deep down? I am E A G E R as hell.

The trip has started very nicely indeed. The weather has been just a tad annoying, but the good ol’ Italian warmth has more than made up for it.

Pictures and photos to follow shortly. After I get some sleep and look less like I’ve had less than 10 hours sleep in the last 48 hours.

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