Back from Italy.
Wen't to Nove, a place that calls itself the land of ceramics.
It's odd...I've lived in Europe off and on for 9 years. Never heard about the place. Learned of it three weeks ago...started asking around...apparently I've ruined it...it was the largest conspiracy to "not tell Tim" in history since everybody BUT me has already been.
That or...well, I can be clueless.
Nove lies between Venice and Verona, not far from the US Army base at Vicenza. Visited the factory stores of the places that actually make stuff for Lenox and Sonoma-Williams.
Phenomenally inexpensive. Extraordinarily beautiful.
I bought CPT Patti some gorgeous stuff.
Flew to Italy aboard Ryan Air...the Ireland based "no frills" airline making a splash in Europe for their whacky pricing structure. Since it is no frills if you want something to eat you either bring it yourself or you purchase it from the crew.
I noticed that a muffin and cup of coffee would cost about $4.50. Had I bought that...my inflight snack would have cost more than my airline ticket from Germany to Italy. At least before the government put their hand out.
The actual cost of my ticket was about $3.50 each way...although once you add in the taxes I actually paid about $40 for the round trip flight.
I suppose this demonstrates why we Irish do not yet rule the world. We don't know you can't fly people all over Europe for the price of a happy meal.
What the Irish don't know about pricing, they make up for through the imposition of hardship. This isn't so much an airplane as it is a Blue Bird school bus with wings. The seats don't recline...at all, presumably because the passenger behind might be inclined to chew on the headrest...so close together are the seats.
And to say they use creative license in naming their airports is charitable. To save money Ryan Air does not fly into the major airports...but finds smaller airports in areas "outlying" the cities in which the larger airports lie. I departed from "Frankfurt-Hahn" and flew into "Venice-Treviso". In the states this would be something akin to flying from "Atlanta-Miami" to "Dallas-San Francisco", the distances between the former name (where you think you are going) and the latter name (the place you end up) being reasonably similar.
While browsing in the second story showroom of the largest ceramics showroom in Nove we heard the sound of cowbells through the open window (it was pleasantly warm in Italy). My traveling companion went to look - and laughed. I leaned out the window, looked down to see at least 500 sheep, 80 goats, 20 burros, 2 humans and 3 sheepdogs...passing through a narrow road that connected the fields with the town. The mass of the flock was staggering as the narrows allowed for perhaps only 8 sheep abreast to pass through. The parade went on for what seemed like 20 minutes.
As we stood there watching the sheep kept stopping to nibble from the ornamental privacy shrub at the villa next door. The owners came running out clapping their hands in fits of pique to scare the animals off. It worked on some sheep. Others seemed to view it as some sort of standing ovation by the humans and redoubled their consumptive efforts.
Sheep are not quiet creatures....at least these were not...it was a cacaphonious chorus of bleats and baas. One sheep, and only one sheep apparantly was an independent thinker. He turned around to make his way "upstream", as if he'd suddently realized he's dropped his wallet back a block or two. His insistence to go against the flow earned him the nickname "blacksheep". We were going to name him "stupid" but felt that name was already in use...about 499 times.
I can only assume the goats were there to demonstrate to the sheep that there are worse things to eat than grass. My friend told stories of a goat that once ate the grill off a car. I wondered if that car were a Chevy. I might be able to contemplate eating Impala off the grill, but the other way around seems - well, goatlike.
I don't know what larger purpose the burros served...except one. The special burro was wearing an apparatus made of canvass...worn like a saddle blanket, the canvass had three pockets on the left and right sides. Inside these pockets were lambs...lambs so tiny they could not be more than a day or two old. Cute doesn't begin to describe the "aw" inspiring power of the hay-powered lamb taxi.
When the flock had managed to squeeze through the narrows, they paused for a moment upon the lawn of the now apoplectic villa owners...I suppose to take a little, and give back a little - as it were - then the dogs and the humans led the flock onto the main thoroughfare of the town of Nove...a 2 lane road normally populated with Fiats the size of sheep (but with considerably less horsepower).
There was a lot to like in Italy...and I bought much of it.
I'm zapped...so will return to full posting mode on Wednesday.
Oh...and my chapstick...made the whole voyage with me. Very odd.
I think it is a stalker.
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