Not in ferie

Aaaand we're back. Back in the land of plentiful gelato and stores that close irritatingly early. In fact, I should probably plan all future returns to the bel paese around the closing times of local supermarkets. Because otherwise I end up like I am now: all greatful for the fact that I stuffed a package of goldfish crackers into my purse before leaving America (three or four days ago) and subsequently forgot to remove them.

You know how in America you can get pretty much anything you want at anytime you want it? I mean, definitely during extended daytime hours - you can do your banking and your post office-ing and your grocery shopping and your dry cleaning and all sorts of things until considerably later than you can in Italy. (Or France, for that matter.) Similarly, you can go to the bank on a Saturday and to the supermarket or the mall or pretty much anywhere on a Sunday. (Except the bank or the post office, I suppose. Still, though.) Like, if you suddenly need a soda at three a.m.? Probably there is a 24 hour convenience store somewhere within comfortable driving distance. McDonald's at midnight? For sure. In fact, once I was with some friends in New York and we decided we needed a board game to play (I forget what the context of this was) and it was ten p.m., but that's fine, because we just sauntered into some random Wal-Mart and there we were: toys in the middle of the night!

Here in Reggio, though, it is a different matter. Good luck to you if you happen to show up some fine evening at 8:40 and notice that you have no shampoo, no laundry detergent, no bottled water, no food, and a pressing desire to shower, do your laundry, and, uh, ingest food/hydrate yourself. You are in trouble. In fact, this is how I come to be dining on goldfish crackers and savoring the little bottle of water that I grabbed (kind of on a whim, really... but so fortunate!) before getting on the train. Not to mention eagerly awaiting Acqua e Sapone's opening time tomorrow so that I can get soap, in various forms and for various uses. Yay soap!

Hm. I feel that I am starting to make very little sense. It has been a long and largely boring day of travelling, though. In fact, I would like to take a moment to boast of my travelling prowess. Today, my trajectory was as such: tramway halfway around the periphery of Paris --> RER train around the rest of Paris --> airport shuttle to correct terminal --> airplane to Malpensa --> shuttle bus to Milano centrale --> regionale train to Reggio --> taxi to here --> very tired arms and legs lugging suitcases up three flights of stairs --> me sitting at this desk, eating goldfish and too lazy to go get ready for bed and thus continuing to type instead...

Yes, anyway. Oh, one more parting thought, though. You know how in America you can get anything anytime, pretty much? And in Italy you are quite restricted and on a Sunday afternoon, just about all you can get is a coffee or gelato? Well, in France, it's like that except for the bread. You can always, always find a boulangerie that is open and ready to feed you a fresh baguette/croissant/eclair or whatever, no matter what day it is. It's like, if it's the god-given right of an American to have tylenol and board games at whatever time of day we damn well please, it's the god-given right of French people to have fresh bread any day of the year, right down to Easter Sunday and Christmas, and don't anyone try to take it away from us!

Okay. Now I really will go to bed. 'Notte Reggio. It's good to be back.