Everyone Needs This

A car in their restaurant!  Found this the other day at a place we frequent for lunch.  Yep a fully functional Fiat 500, put away for winter storage.

Like Vikings!

I recently spent a week in Norway and it was a very interesting place.  The city I went to, Stavanger, is on the southwest coast, is the third largest in Norway and is the epicenter of the Norwegian oil industry.  The history of Stavanger is of course a Viking one but it does boast a very large British style medieval cathedral.  These days it is one on the most expensive places to live, thanks to their remote locals and the high wages from the offshore oil industry.  The area is beautiful with mountains, fiords and ocean views everywhere.

Stavanger Harbor

Since I was there for work, I had the opportunity to be shown the sights by a Norwegian co-worker.  He decided to take a few of us out for a traditional Norwegian meal, Lute Fisk (it’s pronounced kind of like ludicrous).  The restaurant we went to was known for this dish and it is traditionally served with mushy peas, boiled potatoes and a Norwegian spirit called Aquavit.  It is important to know up front, which we did, if you are ever in this situation that Lute Fisk is Cod cured in lye…yes the stuff you make soap from.  Undeterred and not wanting to offend we all bravely ordered and he confirmed with the waitress in Norwegian “Yes, 10 lutefisk!”

Lute Fisk- top center, boiled potatoes to the bottom right and mushy peas to the left

I wouldn’t say it was bad, but I’m not a fan of raw fish of any kind and to be fair most people at the table finished their entire portion.  However, it is basically a firm jello consistency and mostly raw since it is basically only steam cooked after it has been lye cured for about 2 weeks.  Aquavit on the other hand is similar to vodka, but has a fiery finish like moonshine or strong whiskey, and is cured in oak barrels; optimally in a sea going ship.  Even today Norwegian flagged ships often carry casks of the stuff in their holds. 

The discussion of the evening revolved almost entirely around the dish, its accompaniment and what brought it about.  After a bit of discussion we came to the following conclusion:  The Vikings would set off to raid England with a fully stocked warship, which held a cask of freshly distilled Aquavit in its cargo hold.  They would row across the North Sea, pillage and punder for a few months and then decided “it’s time to go home!”  They would then catch a few cod, toss them in some lye to cure while they rowed back across the North Sea to Norway where, upon arrival, they would have a huge party on steam cooked lye cured fish, old peas left over from England, Irish potatoes boiled in the steam cooking fish water and a strong drink to finish it off…and that is how good stories, lies and rumors start.

Why I don't Blog More

Rome...Venice...Ferrara...Amersterdam...Norway.

I feel truly fortunate to be able to see these things.  I think I have seen some of the most famous pieces of art, architecture and culture in history.  It is worth not flying for a few years.

St Peter's at Sun Rise, Rome

St Peter' at Sun Set, Rome

St Mark's Square, Venice

Este Family Crest, Ferrara Castle

Sun Set, Amsterdam

View out my hotel, Stavanger, Norway.

Odds Are...

If it is to be done in a way that makes the least sense (to me anyway), takes the longest or is the most dangerous you can bet that's the way it's getting done.

Take these two guys.

That's right, the guy on the left is pushing his friend with his foot while riding in traffic because the two blocks they road were too far to walk and push.

Just the Good Ol’ Boys

Tricked out 4x4 Dodge covered in mud…check

Black lab perched in passenger seat…check

Is it Mississippi?  Georgia?   Tennessee?  Texas?

Nope, Ferrara Italy.  I saw this guy parked about ½ a block from the castle along the main street.  Foxworthy was right; there are rednecks everywhere.

The Hills Are Alive…

With the sound of gunfire of course. 

Of all the things I would have put on the list of “I’ll never do THIS in Italy”, shooting about 300 rounds of Colt 45, 12 gauge shotgun and 9mm in the Tuscan hills ranks close to the top.

Some background:  like most things in Italy first you have to know a guy…and we do, Marco.  One of the Italian Security Forces and a member of the Italian Practical Shooting Club.  He invited us to join them on one of their shooting days figuring, “hey these guys are a bunch of Americans they must love to shoot stuff.”  And wouldn’t you know he was right. 

So off we went one Saturday morning into the Tuscans countryside to meet up with the rest of the guys.  Since, our friend told us, there we no facilities at their shooting range and since it was a bit rainy we may want to bring a change of clothes, some snacks and some water.  We of course brought that plus some American beer.  After all we are shooting guns and you have to have American beer for that…at least that is what we were told by our hosts so we obliged.  For my part I received a healthy dose of a hard time for my bag choice…and considering my previous posts on “man purses” I don’t blame them, but I did have my revenge.  More on that later.

We arrived, after meeting for coffee before hand of course, and our hosts generously provided everything.  They had top notch gear:  1911 style 45 ACP pistols, quick draw holsters, Benelli 12 gauge assault shotgun and a sweet Berretta 9mm carbine rifle.  All this is saying a lot because gun owning and shooting is heavily regulated, taxed and is extremely expensive here in Italy.  Additionally they had a cool range set up with metal drop plate targets, cardboard silhouette targets on stand up frames, some cool contraptions that put targets on the move as well as some places to simulate shooting from cover.   Only problem was we had no belts to put holsters on and by some freak chance no one wore a belt.

I was in fine shape however after MacGyvering my man purse bag strap into a stylish and very functional pistol belt.  And after a few minutes my friends begrudgingly admitted that I had “sufficiently rednecked out my man purse” and could be forgiven for my previous blunder.

The "Man Purse"

...and it's new gun totting capabilities.  Note the shiny silver buckle.

After they handed out some gear and we set up the range, there was the obligatory safety brefing.  Which was of course brought up quicker than expected because as soon as someone handed me a gun I walked away from the crowd, choose a safe direction and drew out my pistol to check it out…big no no.  Of course now I was full into the “crazy gun toting Texan” mold…but that’s ok with me and most of the Italians didn’t mind.  In fact one of the guys is considering moving to Katy…because he likes Texas and because that’s where he can get guns and things for shooting guns cheap.

Duff's "4 Aces" in a quick draw holster

After they check out our shooting and safety skills we were deemed good enough to move to the “full course”.  This entitled shooting up to about 20 targets, from behind cover or on the move and sometimes with two different guns; ie sometimes you would shoot up the place with 6 rounds of 12 gauge and then follow up anything else with a pistol.  IT WAS AWESOME.  The whole system had a scoring deal, I of course won…at least among the Americans because Marco stomped everyone.

We have been invited back and we decided next time we are going to set up a “multinational; team competition”, which will involve 2 guys shooting the range at the same time and both of us will be using two different guns to complete the challenge…sounds right up my alley.

The Range

Me shooting the pistol...note the judge/safety observer.

Twic shooting the carbine "from cover"

Me on the move with the 12 gauge

After a fun filled day we headed back home, after downing a few cold beers, then stopping for coffee of course. 

The Americans...note the beautiful Tuscan setting and Fiddler's "Hand-gun".

The now "International" shooting club...ready for cafe.

A PhD in Parking

I learned to parallel park in a 1972 Ford Galaxy 500.  It’s called a Galaxy 500 because that’s about how big it was.  As a result I consider myself to be above average when it comes to parallel parking skills, no surprise.  Here in Italy, however, parking and most particularly parallel parking is at a whole new bar.  Parking on our street alone, which is one of the easier places to park in town, is so bad that Lauren refuses to park the car unless she can park in our designated spot in the lot across the street.

The reasons parking is such a challenge are many.  First parking spots are difficult to come by during the work week, particularly for a car as large as our Cadillac.  When I get home for work, it is not unusual for me to make 3 or 4 laps around the block, in ever widening circles, before I find a spot.  Second Italians have no qualms with leaving the absolute minimum space between your bumper and theirs, making escaping your chosen spot as difficult as getting in it.  Finally many of the streets are so narrow, with cars parked on both sides, that the most common parking techniques are almost useless.  As a result car bumpers truly earn their name because small taps and nudges are common when parking.  Additionally, when parking in a regular lot spot, the distance between two cars is nil requiring careful entrances and exits and a bit of gut sucking to get in and out.

Here is a look at some of the most common parking challenges.

Min distance for parking.

Just enough space to squeeze in.

I'm not sure you could even open the door.

This street is so narrow I often have to fold in the mirrors to get past.  Notice how all the parked cars have done the same.  A nose in then some sort of improvised parallel parking scheme followed by several Austin Powers turns is the only thing that can get you into a space here.

The 1972 Ford Galaxy 500.  Minus the dinged up front end, this is my car exactly.  Color, hubcaps and all 43 feet of hood.  It was my great grandmother's before I got it and I think it only had about 50,000 original miles... in 1992.  The whole thing is the same length as a Suburban.  You can fit three people laying in the trunk, six sitting across the back seat and you can lay down across the front seat with out touching either door.  A true land yacht.... or supertanker