Learn Italian the Tourista Way

The thing about train travel is, it seems terribly romantic and exciting unless you are actually doing it. Every time I see a scene in a movie with a character taking a train trip, she is sitting in a quiet compartment that rocks gently, trunk safely stowed above, gazing out the window at green fields, usually wearing a stylish hat and gloves. What you don't see is how she had to run through the train station with her suitcase, looking desperately for a ticket machine which then would not take her credit card, and hauling her heavy bag down the stairs and then up the stairs to the right platform--she hopes--before heaving her bag up the steps onto the train that finally arrives, and then seeks out an open seat that might or might not be reserved for someone else, and hoists her bag onto a luggage rack about 50 feet off the ground; and, praying that the train is going the right direction, she sits there sweating through her last clean shirt, too tired to look out the window at anything except station signs that might or might not be correct.

In fairness, I really do like traveling by train. I think the US was very shortsighted not to develop a national rail system (I know that is a popular opinion these days, now that gas prices are more expensive than running liquid gold through your car, or burning big piles of cash for fuel). And it is fun to look around and see what is going on.

There were rows of grapevines threading through vineyards that began to look like lines of leafy elephants, nose to tail, stretching their green trunks toward the train tracks. There were red and white church towers in every village, and medieval towers fortifying the hills. There were very local-looking people on bicycles, women's skirts mysteriously not flying up in their faces as they rode.

And we made it to Venice. Only just. Our train was late arriving in Bologna, where we changed to the Venetian train. I don't know why it was late, exactly, but there was a great deal of shouting in Italian at the ticket collector as we sat at one station (sweating, because the AC goes off when the train stops) for nearly 30 minutes. I tried to ask the man across the aisle about it, but he didn't speak enough English and I didn't speak enough Italian, and my Rick Steves phrasebook was way up in my suitcase. Oh, well. We caught a later train and got here only an hour later than we would have arrived, and the sun was lower in the sky so there was more shade for us.

It may be a cliche, but I love Venice. I know I have picked an obvious choice, but I think it's my favorite city. Ever. Even though it's so damn hot right now that I can't tell if I actually dried off after my shower this morning.

I love the little twisting Venetian alleys that seem to go nowhere (like the dark hole where we watched lines of tourists disappear, and others come out, for hours last night while we had dinner until 10:30--I still have no idea where they were going or why). I love the canals, with their vaguely decaying smell that wafts across the stone bridges and narrow streets. I love the big boats puttering along, and the small wooden crafts that zoom about, and the fact that you take a water-bus instead of a land bus.

And on that note, my father, who for the last week has been ordering water in English at restaurants, has finally learned an Italian word: vaporetto, water bus. He just used it casually last night, like he has been speaking Italian all along. "How late do the vaporettos run?", he asked me, and I almost dropped my camera in surprise. When it comes to boats, he is always interested.

So in the spirit of that, here are some helpful Italian words and phrases I have learned. For you Italian speakers out there, please forgive any errors I may have made:

Dove: Where (doh-vay). As in, "Where is the train station?" or "Where is a gelateria?" or "Where is the nearest fountain I can throw my crabby family into?".

Gelateria: Ice cream shop. Although that is a terribly inadequate description for the heavenly nectar that is gelato. I believe it's made with a very great deal of cream. There's a reason that people bring elastic-waist pants to Italy. My favorite flavors this trip have been cherry, lemon, and peach. It's just too hot for chocolate hazelnut, pistacchio, and my previous favorites.

Quanto costa: How much is it? As in, "Are you planning to drive me all over Rome in this taxi and then charge me 50 Euros more than normal?". Side note: I have unfortunately not learned my numbers beyond 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, so if it costs more than that, I'm in trouble.

Caldo: Hot. Which seems backwards, because it sounds like "cold". As in, "It's so hot that I have had four gallons of water in four hours and not needed a bathroom all day."

Troppo: Too (much). As in, "You are charging too much for these cheap tourist knockoffs," or "It's TOO HOT!" Even the Italians have been saying that last one, which is how we know we're not just wimps.

Basta: Stop. This is a confusing word for me, because it sounds a lot like "bastard" and I wondered why people were yelling that at each other so casually. But really, it's more like, "Stop here for the light," or "Stop, thief!".

Portare via: To go. As in, "I would like this pizza to go." (Really.) This was a personal triumph for me, as I learned and used this phrase on my own to get my breakfast to go, and then taught it to my sister, who studied in Italy for several months but had never heard it. We were able to get lunch to go at a train station and carry it back to our group on the platform while we waited for the next train. I'm sure we could have also gestured to make the woman understand, but it was nice to be able to use real words for once, instead of my usual pointing and thanking.


All right, class, you can put away your pencils. We'll pick up again soon.

Today we are going to Piazza del San Marco (St. Mark's Square), one of the most famous sites in Venice, and I hope we will tour the Doge's Palace, which was the site of the influential political dealings of Venice's most powerful days. My sister and I saw it in 2005, but my parents haven't been here before.

And just in case you're confused by the mention of my sister, she and her boyfriend are also traveling in Europe, and we met up with them for a couple of days to travel to the small town in Le Marche where she studied for a semester. We had the most delicious dinner with homemade pasta at her favorite restaurant, and she took us on a tour of her favorite pizza stand, gelateria, and her school. Now they are back in Rome and headed for Greece (so sad for them), and my parents and I went on to Venice.

Thanks to all of you who have written. I appreciate the emails and comments! Sorry I can't write to everyone individually right now. My offer of a postcard still stands, though, if you send me your address!