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Idrante.
08 Wednesday Jun 2011
Posted in photo blogs, shorties, travel
08 Wednesday Jun 2011
Posted in photo blogs, shorties, travel
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08 Wednesday Jun 2011
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There were three legs to our trip to Italy: Venice, Florence, and Rome. In Venice, Bill and I ended up staying at a janky hotel (Hotel Canada. Do not stay there.) that was basically a hostel at the price of a hotel in a great location. I would have been content if we had intentionally signed up for a hostel instead of shelling out something like $200 a night, but such is what happened. At one point Bill got electrocuted (There was only one source of electrical outlets between our bedroom and private detached bathroom down the hall – and it was in the totally unventilated bathroom with “European shower.”), and at no point did we have any sense of security for our things. There was only one set of skeleton keys for our room, and we had to leave it with the host at the lobby downstairs. There were no checks or balances built in to verify who was dropping off keys or picking up keys, and this was compounded by the undependable presence of any representative at the desk.
This all brings me back to AirBnB, that SF venture that just pulled in a ridiculous $1 billion valuation. I’ve used it. Multiple times. For New York, for Michigan, and now for two cities in Italy. I love it. I’m so glad Edith introduced me to the service. AirBnB saved our Italy trip!
In both situations, the locations for our rooms beat that of any affordable hotels in either city. “Casa Billi” in Florence was in walking distance of the Duomo and right next door to two convenience stores. “Your room in Rome” was about a five-minute walk from the train station and gave us an excuse to explore the Asian sector of Rome. Since we were essentially renting out rooms in apartments that once were Italian families’ homes, we had to use at least three keys to get to our rooms. Do you know how comforting that is when you’re traveling? (Never mind the fact that Bill accidentally broke one of our keys in Florence.) Knowing that your rollaway – with its copies of passports and travel docs, its vials of medication, its phone chargers and iPads – was all at least three keyholes away was extremely reassuring.
Let me be clear. The value should be obvious, but the price is cheap. If you want to get super fancy with a four-dollar sign price tag on AirBnB, you can, but if you are like us, simply wanting security, comfort, and a good location for your first international trip as a couple, you can achieve those goals with AirBnB.
08 Wednesday Jun 2011
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07 Tuesday Jun 2011
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07 Tuesday Jun 2011
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I’m sure residents of tourist destinations all feel a strong wave of frustration toward (in this case) turismo. Dealing with helpless, unresourceful strangers sounds like a nightmare. I’d be annoyed. Completely. But at the same time, do they feel as actively grateful for their ability to switch languages merely on the queue of the first syllables in a heavily accented (or jumbled) salutation?
Employees working in Italian epicenters of tourism impressed me. So much. They made me jealous. Once they realized I wasn’t responding to “konichiwa,” they’d skip from French to English to get my attention. I only claim Standard American English as my language, and it makes me feel like such a lazy, entitled hack when I travel abroad. In Hong Kong I was able to converse in English with natives who kept apologizing profusely for their poor English even though theirs was perfectly understandable and proper. In Italy it felt like every person I interacted with had grown up in three different grammar schools at once in the most critical learning periods of their lives. Such alacrity! Such skill! Would that I could navigate languages so.
I had a major moment of fried brain when Bill and I stopped by his favorite Florentine place for lunch. It was a Japanese-Chinese-Italian tri-brid of a place, located just a couple blocks from our apartment. They sold solo pollo at a perfectly reasonable price, and in fact everything in their menu was pretty cheap and thus welcome to our vacation budgeting. Even though I knew intuitively that Japanese food prepared and served in Italy would be nothing like the real stuff I could get in Tokyo (or San Francisco, for that matter), I was still curious to see what it meant to order Asian food in Italy. I didn’t want to deviate from my plan to eat some sort of pasta or noodle every day, so I decided to go with the restaurant’s “ramen.”
06 Monday Jun 2011
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