I started this post on Sunday, a few hours before my husband joined me here in Rome, but I didn’t finish it before his arrival. We’ve been busy since then, and I’ve learned a Few More Things, but for now, I’m setting a timer so that I finish and publish this within the hour đ
Italics indicate what I wrote on Sunday; regular font for what I added today, Wednesday August 21st. . . .
Currently working on my monthly bookpost, but I want to share a few impressions with you while they’re still fresh. Paul arrives today (so hoping his bag arrives with. . . but again, such a tight connection at CDG! ADDED on Wednesday — Yes, he had better luck with his luggage than I did, and he made the CDG connection with no problem), and I’m not sure whether or not I might put up a Chiuso per Ferie (Closed for Holidays) sign. Instagram is a much easier platform to post on, but when I was doing so this morning, I found myself wanting to save some of my chat for you. Conversations are generally more engaged here (even though, since I got here, I have only been reading and enjoying comments, not responding to them — mi dispiace (I’m sorry!).
So let me tell you quickly about a few things I’ve learned here:
First, that farmaciste (pharmacists) are your friend when you have ailments you’re not sure are worth contacting your travel insurance provider over. I learned this last year when I was directed by our provider to an emergency department that wanted to send me to another town for tests. We had been walking the Via Francigena, had no car, had to be back in Rome for our flight in a few days, and I knew that the problem was a UTI. The (male) GP discounted my opinion, made me the appointment to return for a scan the next day, and sent me off without medication.
So while I writhed in our room in, um, some discomfort, Paul went to talk to a lovely woman in the Farmacia nearby. She asked him to bring me in, and when he did, she listened to me carefully and then sent me to another doctor (female) in the same hospital. This second doctor listened (again, carefully) and wrote me a prescription for antibiotics which the pharmacist filled shortly after. And I was on the mend. Not saying you should ignore your doctor’s advice or your insurance provider’s instructions . . . but just to say that pharmacists can be very helpful as a first stop (i.e. if we’d proceeded directly to the pharmacy before calling that toll-free number . . . )
I was happy to use this “hack” this morning when the thumb that’s been getting redder and more swollen and a bit tender (started as a hangnail, peeling skin around the cuticle, a week ago, seemed to be healing up, then worsened up yesterday to a point where it couldn’t be ignored. So I looked up “farmacia near me,” found one that’s “open 24 hours” about 3 blocks from me, and by 8, another friendly, helpful pharmacist was looking at il mio pollice (my thumb) and giving me a tube of ointment and instructions on how to use it. Time will tell if it does the trick — I’ll be monitoring it carefully, don’t worry — but as a solo traveller right now, it was such a relief to have someone else have a peek. Panicking about losing one’s thumb isn’t the best look for greeting a husband after several weeks. đ (ANOTHER WEDNESDAY UPDATE: Infection is almost cleared up, swelling and tenderness almost gone.
Second, that when you order a cappuccino and a cornetto here, confidently, in your practiced Italian (Prendo un cappuccino e un cornetto, per favore), the waiter is likely to say, Come? (How) And if you’re like me, the first time you hear this, your response might be “Huh? How what?” (Internally! Externally, just a visual expression that says the same thing). . . At which point, the waiter will clarify in English (not too impatiently, if you’re lucky, but they might convey the inevitability of this switch) that they want to know what kind of croissant you want: Filled with what kind of cream, plain, or plain but served with jam.
So. . . the first time this happened, I was with my friend on the way back from the Colosseum, in a little caffè on Via del Boschetto that was much better than we expected from something in such a tourist-filled neighbourhood. She got her croissant with jam (marmellata) and I got mine plain. But because our server had switched to English, I didn’t catch that word or phrase I’d need to get a plain croissant next time.
And this morning, at one of the very few spots open for coffee and pastry (or anything much at all, really) on this mid-August weekend, I easily recognized the Come? after I’d asked for my cornetto, but I could only think to say, Senza crema (without cream) or Vuoto (empty) . . . to which the helpful young cameriere nodded, and said, Un cappuccino e un cornetto semplice. . . And I responded, Esattamente.
Small victories, right? Oh, and also, because I’d had coffee (and sketched it) the other day in the garden in this park, I knew exactly where the (very clean) toilet was, and used it. A very useful bit of data for one’s mapping of a neighbourhood. . . Another Wednesday Update: I’ve used that new word twice since to correctly order un cornetto semplice. Is this what they mean when they say that “a little knowledge is a dangerous thing”? #kiddingnotkidding
And third — I’m writing this on Wednesday now — while I’ve long known about and appreciated Rome’s nasoni (the water fountains that provide fresh potable water all over the city), gratefully filing and refilling my water bottle, I only learned this month how easily and cleverly the flow can be diverted upward into a waiting mouth. Instead of twisting my neck and bending my knees to get my head under the tap (if I have forgotten to bring a cup or water bottle with me), all I need to do is cover the tap with my hand to force the flowing water up through a small hole on the naso (the protuding, nose-like pipe that gives the fountains thier name). Brilliant! Practical! And Fun! Makes me feel like a kid, every time!
So of course I had to dedicate a page of my ZigZag sketchbook to these water fountains. . .
(Looking at my sketch, you can quickly see how well I’ve absorbed a central lesson from the last two sketching workshops I took: Embrace the Wonkiness!)
As I said at the top of this post, I’ve added a Few More Things, since Paul arrived, to what I’ve learned in Rome, especially as we’ve been using the buses. But I’ll save that for another day. Timer’s about to sound. . .
Ciao from Rome,
xo,
f
p.s. Leave me a comment below, if you have a minute. Maybe you already knew the Few Things I’ve learned, maybe there’s something new here you’ll find useful, maybe you have a Learned Travel Thing or two to add . . . Or just something new you’ve learned recently. It’s good for us, right?
Our trips to Italy were in the 1970s & 80s when we made efforts to learn some useful words & phrases in order to wander freely & interact with the locals . In later years we made more serious efforts to learn Spanish for travelling there .My Italian was put on one side & Iâd assumed forgotten . Then about five years ago I visited Liguria with my sisters & a friend where we were in a small village, using a hire car & I was designated Italian speaker despite my protests . I ploughed on bravely & was surprised to find quite a lot of words & phrases were still cluttering up my brain , after all those years . I began to feel almost smug at the reactions of my sisters when I â chattered â just a little with passers by . Isnât it strange how the brain works , holding to old information without you being aware of it ? I think itâs slipped away again now . Happy travels to you both .
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This is a great anecdote to share, Wendy — thank you! I’d say you deserved to feel all-the-way smug, never mind “almost”! I love being occasionally surprised like that by the old boots that get washed up on the shore, just when I need them. Our good old cluttered brains!
(Also, it always seems to me that even just a few words learned of the country we’re visiting are so appreciated by the locals, well worth the effort!)
Lovely post! It could be the start of series ,Frances!
Sometimes I think that I was better before I started to learn some language-certainly bolder and without shame,using phrases and words from songs or films (same as Wendy,used to learn some words &phrases before the trip)! It was charming (for me at least),I’ve enjoyed it….and,yes, “I used to be young” :)…..When one starts to learn grammar and rules…
Your post is both entertaining and instructive
Dottoressa
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Thanks, K! I thought the same thing — maybe I can turn this into a little series (only supposing I continue to learn a “few more things” — supposedly not the forte of an old dog, but I can hope đ
I know what you mean — there was something about the freedom of only knowing so much of a new language. Once I know those grammar rules, I can get tongue-tied.. .
So interesting to follow ~ happy travels!
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Thank you!
Seconding the value of pharmacies, or chemists as we over 60s still call them in the UK to the amusement of our north American English-influenced children. With GP appointments subject to initial phone triage since the pandemic, it’s much simpler with a minor ailment to go to the pharmacist first. In Scotland we have something called, in a John Cleese glimpses of the bleedin’ obvious way, “Pharmacy First”, which allows the pharmacist to prescribe a range of medication which is then recorded on your NHS record (they have access to a top level of your GP record) and which is free, because it counts as a medical prescription, for which we don’t pay in Scotland. They will also tell you if you really do need to see a GP, or straight to A&E. I would always try to avoid A&E as a first resort as a resident, as they’re so cluttered up with people who really don’t need to be there, and are hard pressed generally. I appreciate that travel insurance providers will play safe. Hoping that your thumb continues to subside.
How interesting about the cornetto semplice – glad you got there in the end! What is the Italian equivalent of a cafĂŠ crème, for those of us who don’t like cappuccino? Una crema?
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Yes, our pharmacists in BC have recently been allowed to offer a variety of services, billed to our health care system (we pay a small amount for prescriptions, depending on income level, access to supplementary plan, etc. — generally very reasonable)
As for “una crema” — This very useful article explains the (completely non-dairy!!) significance of this word to your Italian coffee. Basically, Italian coffee is SO good, so well-made, that they don’t sully it with dairy, with the exception of spots of foam here and there or billowing over a cappuccino (but not after 10:30-ish, a.m.!). . .
That was my memory of Italian coffee – too good to spoil. Thanks for the very interesting link. In France my husband will have a crème at breakfast in a cafĂŠ, but I prefer black. I’m a cappucicno and especially a latte-avoider. If I want to drink half a pint of milk at a sitting I’ll have it straight, and don’t get me started on the pumpkin spice/caramel syrup additions!
Ah, farmaciste have been our friends on the VF! Firstly for compede and a few basic supplies. Invaluable for advice about a toe issue I had and for a leg rash my sister in law experienced. We were blown away by the level of service. So good.
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Yikes! I can imagine the hobbling — and you’re almost done now! What an achievement, especially in this recent heat!
Lovely post as always. Wishing I could still travel.
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Thanks, Ronda! I wish you could as well — hope you still find pleasure in your travel memories. I think about this spot on the road ahead . . .
I hope your thumb continues to improve. Pharmacists here can be very helpful, especially experienced ones who can impart much helpful advice. Your sketch of the fountain is charming and evocative. I have happy memories of drinking from them during my visit to Rome many years ago. I wasnât sure that the water was meant for drinking but it was hot, I was thirsty and it was delightfully refreshing.
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Thanks, Maria!
Isn’t that fountain water refreshing! It’s been so hot (by my standards, at least) since I arrived here, and I continue to be surprised at how cold the water from those “nasoni” can be.
Ah, le farmaciste! Also very helpful for matters outside the strictly medical realm eg. if you visit seven pharmacies in your search for your favourite not-available-in-Canada sunscreen, seven suggestions for where it might be found will be graciously provided. At the location where I was successful, I was invited behind the counter and we dug through an unpacked box together (the chatter! I am molto chiara, si, and I cannot get this at home, yes it is very good for dry skin, and I have looked all over the city, and the kind farmacista at Farmacia Selva referred me here, and we are so lucky this delivery just came, and I will take three, no, four…)
(In Florence, Ceramol face creme SPF 50 can be found at Farmacia Franchi – Via Ginori.)
And an alternative to ‘semplice’ is ‘con cioccolato’, just in case you forget, in the heat of the moment lol
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Someone (not I, sadly) could make such a charming and amusing sketch of you and your new farmacista friend digging through that box . . .
And thank you for the PSA — future visitors to Firenze, do take note.
Hahaha! I did try one beribboned with pistacchio cream last week — made for a fun sketch, but I generally find the cream too much of a muchness. . . Best save the cioccolato for my gelato (ooh, I like the rhythm and rhyme there: cioccolato for my gelato!!
Beautiful tiny painting. Well done.
Safe travels.
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Thank you!
As always, itâs so lovely to read your descriptions of what you are experiencing. Small triumphs feel particularly sweet when one is traveling abroad. Thanks for sharing your experiences so generously.
Cheers,
Linda
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Aw, you’re so very welcome, thank YOU!
So true, Linda! They do feel especially sweet, all part of the changed context that helps us focus differently.
Sorry to be so long missing from reading your blog, Frances. I agree about pharmacists… and not just because my sister is a pharmacist. But Stu and I have had really good advice from them in several different countries. They are an often unrecognized resource. And much, much more than a “pill counter” as some people think.
Hope the weather moderates for you over there. That heat would have done me in. You are an intrepid traveller, my friend. xox
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Never a need to apologize, Sue! I’ve been AWOL from commenting in general. This spring/summer has had a funny old rhythm for me
I know you know about pharmacists, having such a good resource close to home. As for intrepid travelling, you and Stu have that field covered and then some. . . . the heat here has tapered a bit — hasn’t topped 35 this week đ (Of course, 26C is pretty much the top of my comfort zone!
Hi Frances, I enjoyed reading your blog. It brought back memories of travelling in Rome in the ’60”s. I was hoping to send you an invitation to my “80th” birthday party, held August 17th, on Protection Island, but then realized you were travelling. It was a wonderful event with a band, and about 100 people, great food. and many old friends and relatives present. I feel blessed. Hope to see you this year. Love to you, and Paul.
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Belated Birthday Greetings Marian! We would have loved to attend your celebration — is it really 10 years since that lovely afternoon when we gathered to toast your 70th? All the best — and yes, it would be great to see each other soon! Love from Paul and I (say hi to Craig for us as well) xo
I have found myself in pharmacies in Rome, Barcelona (and somewhere in France..?) over the years, rather desperately searching for phrases but always getting something that was much needed. My local pharmacy in our village is a constant source of help and information at present, my first stop along the way. I do like an expert, especially one who smiles a lot.
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Yes! This is something well worth emphasizing, that so many of these pharmacists in various places are quite skilled in putting into helpful English that massacre we’re making of whatever words we’re desperately stammering in the direction of a body part . . . I love your last sentence! Yes!!
I found pharmacists to be extremely helpful while living in Japan and also traveling in Vietnam. Although we shared very little language, it’s amazing what you can communicate with gestures and facial expressions!
Please, buy a little bottle of iodine and put it on your finger. It penetratesâprevents infection deep inâand enhances healing, and no antibiotic resistance to worry about. It will almost be gone overnight. I used to teach infection control to medical and dental students-among other topicsâlong ago, and I cannot understand why iodine has fallen âout of style.â I donât go anywhere without it. Continue to enjoy your trip. Thanks for the interesting updates.
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Thank you for this suggestion! Will see if the nearest pharmacy carries it and do a bit of research.