You know what the problem with free flights earned using credit card points? It somehow takes 30 hours to get to Italy. Butttt… who cares, cause… Italy.
I actually like flying. It’s a distraction free zone for 30 hours. It’s great for reading and writing and thinking.
I even like airports. Planes are the coolest. If a stranger watched me stare out the window on take off, I’m sure they’d think it was my first flight ever. But when else do you go 0-180 in ten seconds, then literally fly, and then zoom up into the clouds? I’m not so cool that I can act unimpressed.
When we arrived in Germany we treated ourselves to a typical German meal:
The more time we spend abroad, the more we learn about patterns we see between countries. In America judging people based on nationality is wrong. Oddly enough, getting to learn and talk about culture differences is one of my favorite parts of traveling.
Germans, for instance, seem to be harder than average workers. I had begun to get this impression from different reading back home. Then in Thailand I met some Germans and felt that they were serious and determined in everything they did. Then I met Europeans who shared this view.
It’s a small detail to mention but disembarking from an airplane full of Germans was the fastest disembarking process of my life. This likely had little to do with the airline and a lot to do with it being a plane full of orderly German citizens.
However, it’s worth noting that Germany’s Munich airport makes the top 3 list of best airports while the US doesn’t have a single airport in the top 10.
It’s typical for German highways to be packed by 6 or 7am with commuters. Compare that to Italy or Spain where people are just getting their espresso around 9 or 10am. Germany may be one of the few Western cultures where they may work as hard or harder than Americans.
Anyhow, then on to Venice. The culture shocks are apparently never ending. From a hot and sunny Thailand to a cold New England fall to fair weather in Venice.
A few days strolling along the canals of Venice never hurt anyone. We stopped only for important things like espresso, tapas, a canoli, vino, or a nice view.
And finally to Bologna. Here comes the pasta:
We’ve found the road again, and the pasta. Tonight we’ve found an AirBnB room and are in the company of a very nice older Italian man named Georgianni.
Georgianni speaks six languages, including a language local to Bologna that is barely used any longer. Already we’ve spent hours learning about the culture differences he’s learned of from traveling between Spain and Italy during most of his life. He’s talked at length about the gypsies of Spain, Northern Spain’s battle for independence from Southern Spain, and the culture differnces between Germans and Italians (did you know that in Northern Italy they speak German?).
The hope we started traveling with years ago was to create memories to look back on. Now though, I’ve become hyper sensitive to how little I knew about the world before we started traveling it. There is so much to know, so many people to meet, and so many foods to eat. Tomorrow, day four, here comes the pasta!