The Real Florence

You can read 100 different articles about florence, and chances are that they will have the same or similar point, while using meticulous wording to try and get their point across. But unfortunately for readers, but fortunate for younger (and even older) people who go, you need to know that past the curves of David's huge strap and Giotto's masterpieces, there exists the perfect storm of partying and 

positive attitude.

It's not down to the quality of the clubs or the chianti and the San giovese, but the way the city is constructed and its seemingly most popular current use: a "college town".

When Florence/firenze/flotown/f-town was constructed, it was done with no particular order, aside from having several of the most beautiful Cathedrals in the world at its center. There's no grid, and everything can suddenly turn into a  maze, or a back alley for a secret bakery or a hot club/bar. Florence is truly a labyrinth.

So aside from the close proximity, as everything is in walking distance, her college atmosphere would not make it anything special. But when students come here for college, it's not school, it's a vacation, usually entirely paid for by their parents. Oh, and 85–90% are girls. So add free liquor, the first time you are out of the country, being a guy/girl in a city filled with others, close proximity of beautiful bars, and needing to meet new people, and it's the perfect storm for a party. Every night.

Example: take a bottle of wine at 7:15 up to piazza michaelangelo. Bring cups. Don't be an asshole. Don't be shy, but don't be like the locals who basically jerk their dicks in front of the students... I guess they've never gotten any.

Now that you spent about $8 on a bottle of chianti and brought your friend, just chill out on the steps, and let the atmosphere of the city bring you to your next group of friends that you don't know yet, and your plans for the night. You'll be overlooking the city at the sunset now, and you're feeling a little tipsy. The girls (or guys) you are with now want to keep it going. After all this is a 4 month vacation, and if you make the most of it, you'll find the essence of the city, some good friends, and awesome nights. Fortune favors the brave.

Salerno

The end of the red sauce trail:

Salerno has the most "italian" vibe. It has to be the beginng of the red sauce trail, it just has to. My testament goes further; my landlord Luca informs me that I will be his long lost cousin from America, for tonight when we go out with this friends. He told me how his great-grandfather came to the states, around the same time mine did, except his returned to Italy a rich man... And then lost it all. With a gigantic port, yu can bet that this is where many Italian immigrants left their lives for the American dream, 85 years ago. Regardless of the size of the lemons, or the quality of the mozz, people needed food, and they needed to LIVE. In the words of biggie, niggas need food, niggas need bread... And so it began. I really don't like that word or anything racist really,  but it's necessary for my point.

So like I was saying, salerno seems to have the essence of what I was looking for on this trip. After going out with Luca, who told me he was kinda going through a break up, it seemed like tonight was going to be a wolf night.first we stopped at what looked like some old church for his friends girlfriend who was singing in some choir, they like that stuff here... And it was old, but I'm telling you, not one inch of space on that ceiling was left un-frescoed. Incredible, ornate as could be, like a Bensonhurst home in the 1970's.

After 7 minutes, we left for a tapas style spot, and the beers started. Some beer from Torino, a lager, pretty good... The city is cheap. Beers later, talking about Italian politics as usual... Nothing good. Ever. 

The next place... 1€ beers and sausage w fries sandwiches. So hungry that I literally choked on the sausage. Don't quote me on that.

More conversations about how I perceive salerno, and that everyone pretty much wants serie a in Italy to be Americanized. A Salernitana ultra concurs. I didn't realize they they had a fan base, a serious one, but it's one of the strongest in Italy. They'd be a great investment.

Salerno is a great place to see, the beginning and in this case,the end of the red sauce trail. If this was any given Sunday, yd definitely be hearing the sounds of ragu and pork boiling in the kitchens of the momma's and the nonna's.

Atrani and Ciucci

24/7 bickering. I'm writing right me from a political "convention" in piazza umberto, which is the town square and the only square in town. Idk what they're arguing about, but I figure it's the usual Italian life problems like unemployment, taxes, etc.

Waking up here Is strange especially with the time change. What's even more strange, or rather familiar, is that kids are always getting yelled at, and people are constantly bickering and/or complaining.

At 10 I left to take the alleyways to amalfi, a route I read about in my little walk book. Of course there are signs too, but if you weren't looking for it, you'd never know. I'm still a little groggy when 3 working donkeys walk down the alleyway carrying loads of chopped up house foundation on both sides, all the way down the steps... They probably walked up and down, with the highest part being a couple hundred feet high, at least. Insane. I tried to act like this happened to me every day, and tucked in a corner that happened to be there and let them pass. They were the most jacked donkeys I've ever seen.

I was walking towards this hike I read about called Valle dei mullini (valley of the mills) that lead into Valle delle Ferriere ( I forget) and found out after walking pasts the duomo in amalfi and down the only road. I was already sweating and hadn't eaten. Usually that would mean I'm super pissed, but I knew this was going to be pretty at least.

Like a mile in up hill, and I'm sweating more. A snake hissed at me and I'm pretty sure I screamed or at least jumped.lizards everywhere. Looking to the left there's thousands of lemon trees, then the first abandoned building pops up- an old mill from I think 15/1600s used to build paper, that used the river running through as power.

Legs start to pull and I finally get down by the river and more mills. It didn't taste weird or anything, by this time I just finished my power bar and still hadn't drank all day, so it was necessary.

The end was good, probably took only 35/40 minutes where the rest about 3 hours.

Back to the beach, pass out. Shower. Back to beach. Eat.

To take everything full circle, I'm going to complain because half the men seem to be wearing those awful Napoli camouflage jerseys from this year... And the politician in the square is the loudest voice to complain right now. At least the lemons are fresh

Endless day

It's been a 55 hour sprint. Writing this now from here:

After the plane decided Copenhagen was too foggy to land at, they moved it to Sweden somewhere, Gothenburg or something like that, refueled for about an hour, and I made my flight to Rome by a half hour.

Land in Rome. Ear feels ruptured cause I didn't pop my ears the entire flight, cause I assed out. Walking down the customs corridor in Rome, I'm immediately reminded and made aware of something-  the girls here are hot as hell. I'm sweating and looking like a maniac in all black and swollen eyes. I stank.

The hostel is clean, and I pass out again after seeing my bed. Going into he common room at night I meet this Argentinian girl and her friends, well they didn't know each other but happened to be Argentinian too. Nice enough kids, although one was essentially a neo-nazi. Cantaloupe and bar pizza for dinner. And beer.

The morning I walk 15 minutes back to the station and then take a subway to another train station. All good. Then I get on the wrong train, but lucky enough it's going to the same place and nobody broke my balls. 7 hours later I just got off the beach in atrani. This town is small. I opened my coke can, and it echoed through the piazza. What a pretentious word, let's just call it a square.

This town is next to amalfi, and I'm telling you, if you're a maniac, you've gotta live here. It's all alleyways, and houses built on top of them and what just seems like some unbelievable carving. If you ever get in trouble with the government,  hide out here. It's cheap too.

Porta- my birthday

Finally it was here. A lot of hype was going around in the circle for my party, and I was glad everyone was getting pumped. Earlier in the day I worked as usual on a Saturday, except this Saturday was different as my grandparents were back from Florida. Great to have them back, but let's just say they interrupted my regular 1:15-3:30 nap. I only got about 45 minutes in, a boarderline travesty.

Tom Mcdevitt was the first to show up, and he was greeted by me in my underwears and my seaside heights headband. He deserved it. After everyone got to my house and my dog humped big pawl, we left around 8 and quickly got down to asbury. Big p did like 65 the whole way there, so I guess sometimes the turtle wins... Or however that nursery rhyme goes

The night was terrible as I went 0-5 in bacci. Up until then I had won every game I ever played. Ever.

Besides the bacci,the rest of the night put to shame any episode or season of he jersey shore combined. Pure brilliance. Rather than narrating the events, as things get fuzzy, here's a check list:

Janine breaks light that's well above her head... With a bacci ball.

Random guy moves the target ball, then almost gets his ass kicked and is
Cursed off while he rides away on his wanna be hipster bike.

The 14 and a half pizza was delicious.

Drinks start excessively pouring, I drink rum and red bull only once a year, and it's that particular night

I'm so hopped up on caffeine, alcohol, and sugar that I start to sweat (I don't usually sweat) and every girl becomes a 10. I approach none cus bitches be stingy and they don't deserve the attention

My sense of smell starts to die off, then my vision blurs



I'm about 5 drinks in now and porta puts about 2 and 1/2 shots in each drink

The Dj starts shouting my name and irfan puts me on his shoulders. This is the first of 5 "final warnings"

The rest of the night becomes a blur with lots of dancing and slutty dance moves by yours truly

A girl I dated for 4 years, who in have bad blood with, decides to show up at the worst hour of the worst day of the year; she had 364 days and 21 other hours not to run into me, but tonight, no, it wasn't her night; after cursing her off in her face and quickly walking away I happen to knock over the drinks of a group of men. All of their drinks.

A hate group forms, irfan flips off the crowd and my ex, and it's time to leave as there is now about 25 full grown men who want to beat me up. I'd go down with the ship, but we make our way out. Irfan says "FUCK YOU" to security and we start walking down to the beach.

Big P escorts us as we piss and jump on cars all the way down to the beach.

Like I said, I'm very hot and take my shirt off. My pants also rip. Don't know how. Then these 4 kids try to call me out after we collided with shoulders and I proceed to talk shit and try to throw the ones in my Australian accent. I stayed in character for 5 hours.

After smoking a black and mild in big p's car with the windows up I may or may not have stained his windows with a 99 cent green tea.

A job well done, an incredible night.

Thank you to those that came, bought me drinks, and shared this 5 star night together with. I left certain names out due to privacy, but I know irfan and big p wouldn't care.

The Calm Before The Storm

It's just around 3:30 in the afternoon, a humid, end of May... a Thursday. I love Thursdays. Saturday a group of my friends, who are hopefully/maybe reading this, are going down to Asbury Park to celebrate my birthday. 2 days later, I'm being shipped out to Italy like a Ford Fiesta at Port Elizabeth.

My roots are from where I'm heading, into Southern Italy. Specifically, a bit deeper, but instead of going to old farm towns, I'll be heading just a bit more North, on the Amalfi Coast, and to where it all starts, Naples. Let's see how far my bad Italian accent can get me. After that, up to Florence to see my boys for a little bit... the 3 hour train ride is worth the Secret Bakery, and Gert.

My ideas for this stem partly from my Great Uncle Ted, and partly from Anthony Bourdain's episode on Naples. The episode can be seen here Anthony in Naples
He talks about the difference between Italian culture and Italian American culture, something people (even Italian-Americans) often overlook or don't think about. Different words, different language, some different traditions, but the same core: The Food. So what the hell is a sfogliatelle? No man, I want a Svinyadel. And if that mozzadell ain't wet and fresh, it's your balls Pauly! But I want to see the other side, what they're doin back in the old country... I'm here to pick up on some tips, and hopefully see some freakin huge lemons.

This is the beginning of my Red Sauce Trail.

If you don't see a post twice a day from May 20th-May 30th, that mean's I've been kidnapped, and please call the Navy.