Back in Italy

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It’s too fast. Too fast. I can’t control it. I know it won’t do any good to try and brake. It’s too fast. The blue Renault is 20 cm from me and I have no control over the speed!!!!


Never again I’m gonna stay at the driver seat after loading a car on the train. The train was fast, it was dark, and all I wanted was to slow it down… Never again!!!


Made it to Italy. I was driving as fast as I could - about 80 KMH. The truck’s drivers saw me only as a minor problem if they saw me, driving at least twice faster then I was. Some of them found the fact that a woman is driving this funny slow thing funny and kept trying to get my attention. Sometimes, a minute after looking in my rear mirror and seeing that the road behind me is clear, I found a “Mercedes” or “Iveco” or “Fiat” logo right up Roger’s ass. That’s all I could see before they decided to overtake me. That’s when I understood why people say that Italians are crazy drivers; coming from Israel or Africa it didn’t seem that weird. Coming from Switzerland, I’ve noticed the differences: Poor Italian Drivers, I think that when they install the Italian plates on the trucks they also move (remove??) the indicators. They never indicate. Of course, I can’t blame the drivers; probably someone put the indicators in a non - reachable position…


I hit Milan’s rush hour. Was stuck on the high way for 2 hours, knowing that if I am leaving now I am getting into Milano and it wasn’t something I felt like doing. After Milano, when the traffic started moving I have noticed that its getting dark and I am no where near my destination. Decided to stop at one of those “trucker’s places” and ask about the nearest campsite. There wasn’t one. So, I’ve decided to spend the first night in Italy with a bunch of truck drivers. Of course, I made sure that the restaurant is active all night, parked Roger in the most lighted place and spent the night there. “Spent the nights with truck drivers”: I locked my self in Roger, closed the curtains and didn’t leave until the morning after.
When the morning after arrived and I woke up at a very early (and dark) hour, I have decided its safe enough for me to get out. So I did, I wore my nicest smile (not the one saying: “fuck off its 5:30 am”) and opened the door, lucky me I did set the smile before because the minute I opened the door my smile froze. Literally. It was -50000 degrees out there and my face froze (they say it was +10, but, between me and you - - it feels the same) when I opened the door I found trucks drivers staring at us smiling, apparently they where talking about the cool little truck. I stared back, smiling, said “good morning” and - - - saw myself in the mirror. I believe that the smile I got from the guys had nothing to do with Roger. It had a lot to do with “what’s that cute rag on her head? Or is she a boy?” Next time I am leaving my hair hidden.


I went to visit Saverio (my first woofing boss) at the market in Firenze. And I am happy I did... I didn’t understand how much I’ve missed sitting and talking with him until I was there. So I got there, all embraced with my Italian (or lack of it) and I tried to make myself useful… Don’t think I was very successful, I must say… at lunch time we went to eat with all of the other farmers. Some of them I met before, some of them where new to me. I found myself in a great situation, tourists would have loved to be in: a group of loud Italians sitting and eating together, trying each other’s products, sticking their forks and fingers into each other’s plates, trying each other’s cheese, wine, bread, olives etc… they where so busy eating that they didn’t see that tourists took pictures of them… I only felt very fortunate to be there with them, acting like one of them…
This time Firenze wasn’t like I am used to it. If you remember, I have experienced the most annoying - hot and humid weather when I’ve visited Firenze. As Rossella told my father - they had to pick me up with a spoon from the floor... this time Firenze showed me its other side - the cold, windy, rainy, etc. I must say - I prefer her like this. As frozen as I was…

My new woofing place was in a small farm near Ancona. The farm belongs to a couple of artists.
From our emails I got the impression that they are very interesting and special. He is a wood artist, a teacher that builds models for a blind people’s museum. She is a painter and has an art shop in town. When I got here I understood that yes, they are very special, very kind and generous. They are just too messy and dirty for me to get used to.
She was shocked that I never tried painting (especially since Roger has such a colorful character), so she took me to the studio and let me play with the colors. It was fun, I’ve enjoyed it.
I have tried to tell my self I can get used to life here, that its part of the adventure, that she makes food from scratch and it’s interesting, that they are nice and I gave them my word I will stay here long, I really wanted to stay. But I couldn’t. I found myself too disgusted with the kitchen to want to learn how to cook; I found myself not drinking so I wouldn’t have to use the toilet, and hiding in the room most of the day. Decided it wasn’t for me. Decided to leave.
I left, heading back to Bologna, “my town”, Spent 2 days camping there, meeting my father’s friends. It was the first time we could have speak without my father’s help and they used me to gossip a little about our life, my father, my family. It was funny... I think I made some old people very happy...

Then I made some calls and found a new woofing place - near Modena. A little scared from my last woofing attempt I told the woman who answered the phone that I am coming for a week, because I am waiting for a friend of mine to come and visit (It was the truth, I am waiting for RInat to come here). When I made it here I found it’s beautiful and peaceful. The place is an old small village with a little church; Silvana is an amazing woman, she is strong, brave and independent. She is living here for 20 years, in the last 6 years all by herself but passing woofers like me, growing her own vegetables. She has some farm animals (some of us might call them “food”). I felt comfortable immediately (comeon, I am having girly chats in Italian!!), it didn’t take the “adjustment time” I was thinking of in the last woofing place. I have decided to come back here after RInat’s visit and stay for about 6 weeks. Knowing I am gonna probably freeze when it starts snowing …
The only “problem” with my new spot is that it has no modern communication. No internet, no cellular network. At the beginning it affected my breathing - I got used to having a 24/7 communication in Switzerland and once again needed to adjust my self to my new reality. After few days I found that I can get used to this way and enjoy it (although I miss the outside world). Now I know it would make me appreciate modern communication even more when I see it again…

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