Day 15: 600 kilometres to Milan

I know Toronto — and Ontario and Canada — don't have the population density to warrant it, but man, is transportation ever lacking there. And it's something that's not even noticeable until you get out of the country and see how the rest of the world (i.e. Europe) does it. So far, Italy's been decidedly the best. For just $38 plus tax, I was able to zoom across the Italian countryside on an almost-nonstop train that reached a top speed of 300km/h. Yowza! My ears popped in several sections so even without looking at the digital ticker up front, I knew we were dancing along mightily.

Italy's a country that really makes me work for its affections. I can't just waltz into a store and say, "I speak English — the fun can start now!" Instead, I have to search my mind for all the Italian words I know and put them into an order that makes sense (and not create an Italian version of Flight of the Concords' 'Foux Da Fa Fa'). And you know what? People are starting to take me more seriously and I'm getting what looks like genuine smiles from the shopkeepers, like the panificio I popped into on the way back from seeing The Last Supper at Santa Maria delle Grazie.

Woman behind the counter: Buonasera.
Me: Buonasera. Uh (pointing) crostatine, por favor.
Woman behind the counter: (Something in Italian)
Me: (I have no idea what she's saying, so I just point)
Woman behind the counter: Strawberry? Strawberry?
Me: (At this point, my face is starting to go a bit red so I just nod and say Si, even though she's pointing at the darkest-coloured crostatine)
Woman: No! Blackberry!
Me: Okay, si
Woman: Wait, this not blackberry — blackberry is phone ha ha ha ha
I can't help but also laugh at this, even though there is what looks like a blackberry crostatine
Woman behind the counter: Oh oh, blueberry — blueberry?
Me: Si, e focaccia
Woman behind the counter: (Holds up a plain doughy square)
Me: No no (I point to the one with toppings)
Woman to my left: Pizza!
Woman behind the counter: Pizza?
Woman to my left: Focaccia is plain; pizza has tomato
Me: Ah! Pizza!

So, it may have taken a little while but the native speakers made a joke, I got it. And I tried speaking their language and they ended up accommodating me, but I like to think we all went away a little happier than if I'd waltzed in and said, "I have dollars! Trade them for me for good eats."