Friday, June 11, 2010

Day 15: How Bad it Can Get, May 14

Unbelievable. A rain and hail storm all day? In Italy in May? It feels like someone is playing a sick joke. Like they're showing the smallest amount of sunshine and then pulling it back and saying "Gotcha! Here's the cold and rain!" This whole month it has been beautiful in every place we've gone in the days leading up to our arrival, but when we get there, it sucks. And then when we leave, it's beautiful again.

It's perfect weather in Rome today. Tomorrow when we arrive? Cold and rain. More than a quarter inch forecast. And the day after that. Forecast for the day we leave? 74 and sunny. Come on (said like a magician named Gob). It's all bull. I'm past the anger. I don't care anymore about being angry. I could care less about anything right now really. Weather, seeing sights, being optimistic, etc. I want Jo to be safe, fed, and warm and that's about all I have on the agenda right now.

Jo's been very different on this trip, by the way. She's hardly talked at all. If I don't say anything, then we just stand in silence. And since I've been an angry, impatient, pessimistic punk many times, that hasn't helped. Anyway, I feel like my motivation has been destroyed on this trip. Like I've thrown my best anger, cursing, praying, faith, caring, hope, and effort at the situation and it's all just been smashed like a bug.

How hard must it be for the weather to suck for everyday of some spolied kid's Euro vacation? I bet it doesn't break a sweat. or even lift a finger. So that's just the mood I'm in. Plus I hate Italians around this area. They're pricks. I've felt more disdain - by far - from Italians than I ever did in Paris - where they treated us like crap. Screw them. The next opportunity I have to be a punk to some Italian travelling in America I will take it and revel in their discomfort in a strange land. Ugh.

I'm in the Orvieto train station right now. I'm pissed. I'm sick. And I'm getting pretty damn tired of all this.

reading Rick Steves in the rain

that window and door lead to open air over a 100+ ft. drop

the only pic of tony heywood we could snag

precarious. i give that house 10, maybe 15 years

down the path around the outside of town

Etruscan cave that used to be a throug-way to Rome

the door knobs on the place we stayed

the Italian lady that helped us find Tony's


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