Weather Reports

Before we left to go on the Fast and Furious group ride yesterday morning, I heard Phil say to Cristiano (in italian), "It looks like it might rain". A very accurate statement, considering the clouds were a dark gray in the distance, it had rained off and on for the last two days, and the wind was blowing hard. Cristiano said while grabbing a clean kit from his wardrobe, "NO. It won't rain. There will be sun all day." Skeptically, we changed into our kits and in the big "furgone" truck we bellowed into town down the narrow roads of Lucca ten minutes later.

There were 20+ people on the ride. The plan was to do 110 km with a 12 km climb at the halfway point and an easy 3 km climb on the way back. Fine. Dandy. Whatever. It still looked like rain.

I was still thinking about the way he responded to the weather comment this morning. Where I come from, unless there was no dark clouds in the sky, you'd at least acknowledge Mother Earth's tendency to throw a curveball by saying "hope not" or "it might".

While riding, it hit me: Since I don't see Cristiano with a doppler radar channel plugged into his TV (I don't think they exist as channels in Italy) and I know that he doesn't have a laptop - or even internet on his blackberry - I wondered if his definitive answer to Phil's earlier question was just to be funny... to convince the skies... or if he actually had proof that water wouldn't drop from the nimbostratus clouds above. Focusing on the busy road on the way to Pietrasanta, I got distracted from my conundrum to focus on Angelo, the old Italian dude cyclist, whose incessant cussing at screaming cars and deep potholes next to me was beginning to make me feel awkward.

Fifteen minutes later, we diverted from the busy road and were starting to climb. I stopped to pee (two strong italian coffees are not a good idea before riding) and the group chugged ahead. Catching up, I passed a couple of people and found a good speed next to the mesmerizing Brazilian woman named Elika. I say that because most Brazilian people I've met exude this vigor for living life. She definitely possesses it. But anyway, she was nice and we chatted in Portuguese-flavored and English-accented Italian between steep sections of breathing. There was one point towards the top of this climb where it felt like we entered into the thick cloud I'd seen in the distance before. I was reminded of Cristiano's statement again from earlier, so I thought I'd see how a Brazilian - who has lived in Italy for 8 years - would respond.

"Hey Elika, it looks like it could rain, doesn't it?" Taking my sunglasses off since it was so dark and stormy looking.

"No," she shakes her head, "There will be no rain."

At this point, I wanted rain more than ever just to prove that the dark, hanging clouds speak louder than word-of-mouth Italian weather reports. Actually, I take that back. Most Italians have voice boxes unlike any I've ever heard (which is probably why operas originated here).

Now, at 11am on Monday morning, Cri is out on his bike. Although I didn't ask him for the weather today, it just began to drizzle.

A Big First Month: June 2010 in Europe

Last year at this time I was back in the states, sharing the good and the bad of living in Lucca, Italy and Flers, France with my people after my three months abroad.

This year, after living in the states for seven months (from Dec 5, 2009 - June 6, 2010) I had the structure I had so longed for last year - with two jobs to get back on my feet, my awesome family and friends to plan gatherings with and walk with around the lakes, a car (thanks parental unit!) and a dependable gym membership.

But the longer I spent away from Europe, the more I wanted another shot at it. Last year was chalk full of crazy experiences that were all new and exciting. Some erupted in our faces (ie: the colossal argument over a flat tire on Via Pesciatina) and other adventures were out of a dreamland (ie: weekend in Rome, Tour of Slovenia's city of Bled, etc.)

Needless to say, it's been just over one month of being back in Europe. Phil and I have spent the first three weeks in Lucca, but with very different experiences. I think the nine months or so have shown us that we have many common interests, but that our differences must be embraced and appreciated more than the things that bring us together. That said, I've spent the majority of my time balancing minimal work (design writing for Designer Pages) with running and riding a bike. When not working or bumming around outside, I clean and cook for the two busy men (Cristiano and Phil) that I live with.

This brings me to Phil's experience this year. Every day is filled with French, Italian, and English on his cell phone and on skype. He often lays down to sleep and falls asleep in less than 2 minutes. Although I wish I had a big job to relieve the stress of loan repayments, I am happy tShow allo support him. It's a very exciting time for him and cycling, and a very unique position that I'm put in, acting as a sounding board, an accountant for expenses, a chef, and a sponge for the cultural differences abound.

Now, we're in Flers, France with the beautiful Beucherie family. It's been so great. I think the fact that I understand more of the language and that I know them so much better has helped immensely. We have been here just over a week, and will depart tomorrow for Italy again. This week of pseudo-vacation followed two days in Luzerne, Switzerland and three days in Bensheim Germany. Each were for work, so not all fun and games, but they have opened my eyes up so much to all that surrounds us in this great continent.

Photos:
1) An evening trip to Sienna to see Mark and Trish, friends in Italy who are from New Sweden, Maine
2) July 3, 2010 - Léa Guesdon and I on our first day in Flers at Franck Beucherie's 40th birthday celebration
3) Sunset over the Swiss Alps while driving to Luzerne, Switzerland
4) A view of the Luzerne waterfront - BEAUTIFUL city!
5) The Beucheries: Steph, Franck, Simon, & Romaine
6) Walking around Bensheim, I ate a salt herring sandwich called Matjes. It was...interesting.