Counting Down to Wheels Up 2!

Diario di Roma II: Rome Diary 2

Sunday September 6, 2015

Sunny 80°F/28°C in Roma

Buongiorno,

  As we shared our morning coffee and a few father and son talking points, Michael and I suddenly

Joan and MikeBo in Amsterdam 

realized that my sojourn in Italy, like my entire life, is closer to its end than its beginning. Damn! It’s been a great trip. And there’s a lot more to go before I head back to California and Lola my poodle’s wagging tail.  Tuesday, Michael, Laura and I board a train for fabled Venice and a three day visit to the northern part of Italy. We’ll return to Rome by the weekend, and I’ll start to wrap things up for the long flight back. But, I’m sure that in the short time remaining, there will be a new adventure or two, and more pleasant surprises.

  Now, you may have noticed that my Rome Diary II (2 in Italian is pronounced – dué, or doo-way). Diario di Roma Dué. It is not intended to be a Rick Steves knock-off. I’m not auditioning to be the next stellar travel writer. It’s just what its title implies, a journal kept by a solo wanderer. Random notes on a long journey. (LAX to Roma is 6400 miles). I’ll share more of my reflections after I get back, but for the present let me catch you up on the last ten days or so. This trip I brought my own laptop and my new I-phone, so I could keep things on the home front running smoothly in my absence. But, I have been hampered somewhat by difficult internet connections and a temperamental computer. (Gawd! I can’t wait to upload Windows 10). That’s why the Diary digressed into a series of Facebook posts uploaded from my trusty I-phone. I captured the return to Selci and the adventure we had strolling through the Farfa Abbey and Rocchettine. Now, picture this- in 1621 when the Pilgrims and the Indians were trying to figure out the menu for the first Thanksgiving dinner, the Orsini family was remodeling their mountain top fortress village. The village has had people living in it for over a thousand years. Can you imagine the benefits if they had rent controlled apartments in 1175 A.D.?

  Since I left California back in August I’ve renewed old friendships and made new ones. Let me 

Grandpa Botula

digress at this point to share a family adventure. My grandfather, Karel Botula came to the states from what is now the Czech Republic in 1903. He and my grandmother, Johana raised nine children and the Botulas “begat and begat” as the Bible says, into a very large family whose younger members are looking back to their roots and re-establishing connections. (Nothing like two world wars to disrupt family togetherness). So, after talking to my older cousin Bernie Botula’s own grandson, Jeffrey, who has actually visited two prominent members of the Botula clan at their home in the old country, I set out to make my own connection. Michael and I were hoping to be able to fly to Prague for a reunion. (“Gee, dad! Prague is only a two hour flight from Rome.”) Alas, that was not to be, but Jeffrey did put me in touch with Alice Bolfova, a family friend who helped arranged his meeting with Jiri Botula Sr. and Jiri Botula, Jr. Alas, we were daunted by travel logistics and language barriers. The Czech Botulas don’t know English and I don’t speak Cestina! As it is, I need to spend a lot more time on my Italian. So, the new family reunion will have to wait until my next trip back. Alice has very graciously agreed to stay in touch and help me to communicate with the family in the Czech Republic. So, we are now solid Facebook friends. The new friendship will enable her to practice her English and allow me to become better acquainted with my grandfather’s native tongue, Czech. This will help me become inept in a total of five languages – Spanish, French, German, Italian and now Czech.

New Friend - Valentina

   Speaking of new Facebook Friends, remember the lovely lady that I met on Michael’s Ostia Antica tour? Valentina? It turned out that this pretty and intrepid photographer is one of Mike’s English students. I had her figured as a professional travel photographer, what with the big Nikon and all. But, she’s really a human resources manager for a major auto leasing company here…and also committed, according to junior. Drat! Such a pretty smile, and, those big brown eyes! But, on Facebook at least, I have a new friend! I’ve also reconnected with a groups of expatriates that I first met on my visit here almost two years ago. The other Americans that I met during that trip tended to be from either New York, where I grew up, or from California where I’ve spent the bulk of my life. Add in the Brits, a sprinkling of French, Irish and other nationalities and it all added up to a group of good friends from places other than Italy. The common denominator was that we all spoke English. Having lived in New York and San Francisco and a couple of other international cities, I have felt right at home with these folks from the get-go. It all goes to show you that you never know where you will meet your next new friend.

Guess Who at 19

  My other sojourn…to Amsterdam…concerned a friendship of a totally different sort than the Facebook variety. Joan and I had been teenaged sweethearts back in our home town high school days, so many years ago that I tremble at the sheer number of passing years, and think, most people

Joan at 18

don’t live as long as the time since Joan and I were dating! Our romance came to an end several months after she graduated from high school and headed to the big city, on a full scholarship to N.Y.U. (Oh, did I happen to mention that she was not only drop dead gorgeous, but brilliant, too!) At seventeen she spoke French well enough to interpret the menu at Paul’s Rendezvous, our local French restaurant. She loved not only classical music but, more importantly where I was concerned – Jazz. In fact when I caught up with her on the Veerstraat, she showed me the Frank Sinatra album I gave her on her 18^th birthday. Yes, there was a lot of water under the bridge since the last time we saw each other. In fact, as we chatted on the canal boat tour of Amsterdam, we figured that we had last actually seen each other in 1964, a mere 51 years! In its day, it had been, as Sinatra had crooned, A Fine Romance, but now, as we both discovered, long after our parting, there remained a great and enduring friendship. Just before I got into the airport cab, we hugged and I said, Look at it this way, my dear, we are the only two still standing!  We were together back then, and now after all this time, we are still here! Go figure!

Ciao,

MikeBo

©Mike Botula 2015