Anyway, this morning I took the RER to Charles de Gaulle airport, caught a flight to Bologna, and now I'm in Italy. If I weren't so forgiving, I'd probably spend a good portion of this post complaining about the incompetent woman who works for my mom at the travel agency. She booked the flight (because I thought it would be the responsible thing not to do it myself, given I'm not a travel agent!) and when I asked her about the baggage allotment, she told me I had the right to one checked bag. Apparently not, and I technically wasn't allowed to pay for one at the airport. The lady was pretty sympathetic given I spoke French and was clearly quite annoyed with American incompetence. I think she really understood, because she let me pay to check my bag. But it was too heavy.
I am currently sitting in my beautiful hotel room in Bologna, listening to the sounds of a gigantic concert/party that is going on outside. When I got here, I decided to spend today wandering around without any sort of touristy agenda (I can do that tomorrow). I got here kind of late, and I was exhausted, so actually visiting churches, shopping, and following an itinerary seemed cumbersome. Well, good thing I didn't have plans, because they would have been ruined. I turned onto one of the main streets to find a giant parade! A gay pride parade—colors, cross dressing, it was basically Kinky Boots the musical but not $140 and I didn't find it insulting to my intelligence! A little farther down the road, I saw 3 groups giving simultaneous concerts. And a bit farther still, by what I can only assume is a famous statue, there was a gigantic outdoor movie theater that had been set up for the cinema festival!
Bologna is a bit of a mystery to me. All I know is that they have the oldest European university, that there are two famous towers (Le due torri, one of which is pendente or leaning), and that one of my professors is from there and is extremely proud. Also, there's a kind of spaghetti that comes from here. Bolognese, ovviamente. Despite my lack of knowledge of Bologna's history and current status in Italy, being in Italy again after a month in Paris is a bit of a culture shock. In Paris, I feel quite comfortable. I really know the city, can navigate in and out of the métro, can wander around areas I don't know without getting lost, and I've been to every tourist site and know the literature, history, culture, and museums probably better than most Parisians do. But, Bologna, and any Italian city for that matter, are still new to me. Fortunately, my Italian is at that level which will allow me to figure things out. The taxi driver who brought me to the hotel from the airport couldn't believe my Italian—he said it sounded absolutely perfect, no accent, except that I talked a bit too precisely as though I were reading from a book. I told him part of what I did to learn was read tons of Calvino, so I guess that makes sense.
Anyway, I also got a delicious dinner tonight—pumpkin ravioli in a balsamic sauce with salty bacon bits (that was my primo piatto, because pasta isn't a main course in Italy) and then breaded and fried veal alla bolognese (with a slice of prosciutto and cheese on top, that was my secondo). Then, an espresso. Instead of getting dessert there, I got gelato, and it might have been good enough to make me forget for a second that, were I in Paris today, I would have gotten Berthillon. Just kidding, it was delicious. Salted toffee!
Oh, and my hotel room has a balcony and you can see the torri from it! Admittedly not the greatest view, but a view nonetheless!
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