#39: Siamo Tornati in Italia!
Ciao Nonni!
Siamo tornati a Lucca, finalmente! The last five weeks have been very special (and very tiring!) as we criss-crossed the globe, catching up with friends and family. It's a lovely feeling to be glad to come home to our little Italian paradise - once again we feel very lucky to have two incredible places to call home now.
When we left Italy, it was as brand new Italian citizens. After seven years of effort, this news didn't really sink in for a few weeks. In fact, it's only now that I'm back that I can fully appreciate how happy I am to be officially recognised as both Italian and Australian. I also feel like I should frame the acceptance letter, in the manner of a university degree. Honestly, it feels like I should be given a PhD alongside the beautiful deep red passaporto.
Leaving Italy for the first time since we moved here almost a year ago gave me plenty to reflect on. There was a lot that I missed about Australia, and plenty more that I appreciated about Italy once we'd left.
Some of the things I loved about being in Australia were:
Seeing friends and family, obviously.
The playgrounds, both in terms of number and quality. Australian playgrounds and parks are truly exceptional!
Diverse food. Italy has the best cuisine in the world, and they know it. But sometimes I just really want a Vietnamese pho, a big dumpling feast, or even the dreaded Australian cuisine of smashed avocado toast loaded with eggs and bacon.
Going to the supermarket and chemist and not having to study every single label, with an app to translate to be sure of what I am buying. It's been a long time since I've bought anything medicinal and taken less than 20 minutes to do so.
The beach!
Things I didn't like so much:
The traffic. Good Lord. I didn't fully appreciate how much better my life is without hours in the car each week, until I was back on Punt Road...
Road rage. It seems crazy to say that Italian drivers are calmer than Australians, but I really think they are. Driving in Australia is just so passive aggressive. Every merge is a deep personal insult, and it is very stressful.
Flying. We took seven flights in five weeks. I'll be happy to not see the inside of an aeroplane (or a suitcase) for a while. Especially with the kids.
The attitude towards kids in Australia. In Italy, bambini are treated as princelings. I forgot what it was like to be given death stares and serious side eye when a child under your care makes even a peep in a cafe or restaurant. Ugh. Surprisingly to me, the place that loved our kids (possibly even more than in Italy) was in Dubai.
Things I missed about Italy:
Paying less than $2.50 (AUD) for an exceptionally good cappuccino. Australia is expensive at around $6 for a flat white, Hong Kong is painful at $10 and Dubai almost bankrupted me at up to $20 for a cup of very mediocre coffee.
The quality of the produce, and food in general. I feel like I don't need to say much about this, but I really missed how fresh and unprocessed everything is here. Eating well is an effort in Australia, while here it is the default. It's actually hard to eat badly.
Our friends!
School for the kids...
Riding and walking everywhere.
PASTA. We went on a pasta (and Italian food in general) ban while we were away, to maximise the amount of Asian food in particular that we could eat, but I am glad to have it back in our diet as a key staple.
And finally, speaking Italian. I really missed it. And I feel like I went backwards quite a bit in my progress.
There were a surprising (to me) number of Italians in Dubai. Pretty much every time I heard any poor person speaking in Italian, I couldn't help but strike up a conversation. Luckily they were all very lovely and happy to endure my awful attempts.
On our first evening back in Lucca, we decided that we needed to celebrate our return with some of the delicious polpette from our local macelleria. They are so simple, but these meatballs made from a mix of minced pork and beef are truly life changing. I hopped on my bike and rode the four minutes to the corner of the piazza. I arrived at 4:30pm in the afternoon, which is when the butcher supposedly reopens after the "midday" riposo. I was second in line out the front. My man ambled up to open at around 4:40pm, and eventually threw the doors open for customers at 4:45pm.
The customers in front of me, a couple, took around 25 minutes. They chatted, laughed, tried about five different kinds of salame in their search for the perfect one, and discussed at length the best way to prepare the mince that the butcher ground fresh for them from two huge hunks of meat.
By the time it was my turn, I felt like I'd been forced back on to Italian time. And I had a huge smile on my face as a result.
One of my favourite parenting mantras (care of David's magical mum Liz) is "you can't rush a three year old". I like to occasionally apply it here too. You can't rush an Italian, and you definitely, definitely can't rush an Italian butcher.
All my love!
