The American Tour Group

By Chris Sarcletti

City: Florence

Living in Amsterdam at the time, I was quite excited to see my parents since it had been several months since our last meeting. The fact that we would be meeting in Florence of all places made things all the more interesting. They were traveling as part of a tour group through Italy for 10 days. We decided that Florence would be a good meeting point since they would be spending 3 days there. They had enrolled in this tour 10 months earlier right before I made the decision to accept a position in Amsterdam and move there. As a result, there trip to Amsterdam would have to wait and Italy would be the first destination either my Mom or Dad would experience in Europe.

I am actually very close to my parents but had only been able to spend approximately 8 days with them over the past 8 months. That was a bit difficult but is not uncommon for those working across the country or overseas. As our impending visit got closer and closer, I grew a bit nervous about our meeting. I certainly wasn’t nervous about seeing my parents but was a bit nervous about the setting. It was my parents first time in Europe and my mother had already planned for me to have dinner with their entire tour group on a couple of different occasions. That was fine with me. However, I wasn’t going to be alone. My Irish friend and colleague from Dublin, Antony, would be with me also. Antony is a great guy and is very easy going. However, I didn’t know how he would take to some of the people on the tour and some of the potential comments he might hear. Comments like “Look how small their cars are!”, “Why are the houses like that?”, “That’s stupid!” and “God, I’m glad it’s not that way in the States!” See, many of the people on the tour were first time visitors to Europe, and in some cases might not understand that certain comments made could be perceived by others to be culturally insensitive, if not downright offensive. Personally, I find comments like these to be annoying and amusing at the same time. As you can imagine, hearing these types of things could be much more offensive to those people who make their home and life in a European Union country as Antony does. However, I did try and calm my nerves a bit and prepare Antony as I told him that he shouldn’t be surprised by what he hears.

The manner in which I met up with my parents in Florence was quite interesting. All I had was an address for their hotel. We had no phone numbers to exchange or anything. The last time I talked to them, I just told them I would meet them at their hotel at a specified time. I left Antony in our room and began to navigate the streets to find the Jolly Hotel where my parents were staying. Florence is a pretty easy city to navigate actually. Even I, with my poor sense of direction, am able to walk around the city with the confidence that I will actually be able to find what I am looking for. As I made my way to their hotel, which didn’t look too far away according to the map, I was surprised to find out just how close it was. In fact, it was less than a ten minute walk from the pension we were staying at. By the way, the pension Antony and I found had a fantastic view of the beginning of the Tuscan countryside that we had recently driven through. As I walked down the street towards the Jolly hotel, I looked up and saw my Dad walking down the street. I yelled and he turned around and we ran to each other and embraced. I must admit that it was a bit movie like.

In any case, over the next 30 minutes, I saw my parents hotel room, met their friends Laurie and Reggie, who they were traveling with, and was introduced to 10 other people from the tour group who seemed to know quite a bit about me and Antony. In addition, I met the tour guide operator, Julia, who made quite an impression on me. My parents informed me that I had an hour to get back to my room, shower, and return with Antony so that we could board a tour bus that would leave from my parents hotel and take us to dinner. Off I went. Despite the hurried state, I did manage to stop for an espresso in a coffee bar on the way back to my room.

Believe it or not, an hour later we were boarding the tour bus. My parents met Antony and being the friendly people they all are, they hit it off well. As Antony and I boarded the bus, their seemed to be a state of pandemonium as everyone wanted to meet me and even more people wanted to meet Antony. Many of these people acted as if they had never actually met and spoke to someone who is from another country. I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt. Many of them probably hadn’t. They absolutely loved Antony’s accent. I heard more than one person say, “Isn’t his accent cool?” I do think that there were some women who would have liked to have seen a little more of Antony, if you know what I mean. Maybe there is some credence to the saying, ‘American girls are suckers for accents.’ The bus ride was interesting, to say the least.

One highlight of the bus ride for me was watching Julia, the very Italian and very attractive tour operator, speak with her sexy accent and explain to the tour group, as if they were school age children, the logistics for the night and the next day. Maybe, American guys are suckers for accents also.

We had a very nice dinner. The three course meal we enjoyed was very good and we washed it all down with quite a bit of wine. Like I said earlier, I warned Antony about ignorant comments. Keeping that in mind, a 65 year old woman from Ohio at our table on her first trip to Europe said to me and Antony, “You guys were able to make it over here with the war?” We looked at each other, perplexed, and said, “What war?” As it turns out, she was referring to the Kosovo War. We discussed the topic for a minute, explaining that cancelling a trip to Italy because of a war in Kosovo is paramount to cancelling a trip to Wisconsin because there are riots going on in Los Angeles. After making that analogy, she understood where we were coming from. She was a nice woman and we had a nice chat.

After dinner, a group of us walked over to a bar near the Duomo off of Via Cerretani where we had a couple drinks. My Dad was especially enthusiastic about breaking from the confines of the tour and going to have a drink at one of the neat bars that line the streets of Florence. Joining us were my parents friends Reggie and Laurie and a group of four women from the East Coast who were vacationing without their husbands. They were labeled, “The girls” by my mother and were the wild group of the bunch. They were old high school friends near the age of 40 who decided to take a break away from the family. From the sounds of it, they had been doing their fair bit of drinking and partying on the trip. I have to say that they were extremely open regarding just about everything in their life. We found out just how open on the following evening.

The next day we met my parents in front of the Duomo in the afternoon. They had four hours of planned tour events that morning. After seeing the Academia and Duomo, they went to a leather and jewelry factory where they supposedly had the best deals to buy leather, gold and silver. Fortunately, my parents didn’t buy anything because the best deals are certainly not in some warehouse on the outskirts of town. For those deals, you need to peruse the leather market and associated shops in the San Lorenzo area. For jewelry, why would you ever stray from the litany of stores that are spread across one of the worlds most beautiful bridges, the Ponte Vecchio. I am not that naive to think these tours are not about making money. However, much of the charm of shopping in a city like Florence can be found while walking through some of the wonderful parts of the city where many of the shops are located.

In any case, I was going to make sure that my parents and Antony were not deprived of seeing what Florence has to offer. At least I was going to try. We first made our way to the Santa Croce church. Everyone was impressed by the church, not to mention the sight of the tombs of Galileo Galilie and Michelangelo as this is where their remains are buried. Since I was in the area, I had no choice but to show Antony and my parents another old favorite of mine that I knew they would enjoy. Actually, anyone with functioning taste buds would enjoy a visit to our next stop. We visited the famous Vivoli gelateria. The best gelateria in town? No doubt. The best in Italy? Who knows, but they do boast that they have the best ice cream in the world. Whether it is truly the best is only for those that visit this wonderful spot to decide, but I certainly do not doubt their claim. The creamy chocolate, coconut, amaretto and coffee flavored gelato’s we sampled were amazing. In fact, they were so amazing that Antony and I legged back to Vivoli’s on the following day to sample a few more flavors.

After visiting the church and having our sweet snack, my parents were ready for a bit of shopping. Antony and I took my parents to the San Lorenzo leather market. I felt that the man that Antony and I had both purchased leather coats from the day prior might be willing to give my parents a good deal on some jackets. After watching a dynamite Mexican girl model a leather coat that I was thinking of making my sister’s Christmas gift, I was sold. Yes, I am a complete pushover when it comes to attractive women. It was a nice coat though. Something my sister would like. I also gave the girl my card with our room information if she wanted to meet up for a drink later that evening. Go ahead and laugh to yourself, but I really did think she might call. Yes, I am a fool and apparently I am naive.

In any case, our Iranian leather vendor did give my Mom and Dad good deals on some leather jackets. The grand total was four coats that were purchased by my family and we were treated with genuine class, sharing some nice glasses of wine with the merchant as we completed the transaction. I must say that I never before envisioned myself with a robust glass of red wine in my hand in a leather market in Florence over a nice chat with a guy from Iran who just sold my family four leather jackets. I guess you never know how things pan out. The afternoon slowly crept away as we went back to our rooms and got ready for another tour group dinner.

Another bus ride was on the horizon for me and Antony. I’m sure Antony and his parents will enjoy laughing about his stories on a bus with an American tour group. On this evening, we were having dinner at a small Florentine palace. There was also entertainment with a band, and of course, dancing. The palace was absolutely brilliant in every sense of the word. It looked as if it would have been a fantastic place for a wedding. In addition, everything was first class. There was champagne and appetizers being passed before dinner and wine on the tables. We enjoyed dinner and had some great conversations. My mom, trying to be social and what not, told the 4 women traveling without their spouses to split up and sit by Antony and I. They were more than willing to take her up on that request. I really don’t know what good my Mom thought would come of having 4 women, who were traveling outside of the country without their spouses, getting to know two 27 year old guys better. Not to mention the fact that I have a history of having older women show interest in me. In any case, I danced with my Mom and one of these women and Antony did the same.

However, soon after the dancing began, my attention started to wane. It started to wane because it was being redirected, along with my stares, towards Julia, my parent’s tour operator. She was standing near our table talking to a couple of people. We made eye contact and whether she wanted to talk to me or not, I got up and approached her.

Julia is ravishing. She’s a blond Italian woman from just outside Rome. She’s around 35 and is sexy in more than one way. We talked for a few minutes but it was hard for us to hear what each other were saying because we were near the band. She took control by grabbing my arm and said that we should go to the back to talk so that we could better understand each other. I just followed her. The dancing would have to wait. There was a lounge like seating area behind the dining room that looked like a good place for a more intimate chat. We talked for a few minutes and then I presented her with a question which she definitely didn’t expect. Especially from an American. I asked her how it is to constantly be around American tourists, most of who had never been to Italy before. I was interested to see if she was impacted by some of the insensitive comments and took them at all personally. She was very frank with me. I told her to be. I wanted to hear how she really felt. First, she said it was part of her job and that it was something that she found innocent and a bit humorous. However, she also said that she found it interesting that many of these people had no idea how much they could offend a typical Italian person with some of their comments. She was very surprised by my openness. I have to say that sitting on the couch next to her was almost intimidating. As we talked, she stared directly into my eyes with a confidence that is uncommon with most women I have encountered. I stared right back. After about 15 or 20 minutes, one of the women from our dinner table came back and said I was wanted on the dance floor. I kind of shunned her and said “In a minute” and bought ten more minutes with Julia. Unfortunately, Julia and I had to finish our conversation and head to the exit because the night was about to end. I did get pulled into one more dance but it unfortunately wasn’t with Julia.

The night did carry on at the hotel bar and it did get more interesting. Julia did make sure to say goodnight to me, giving me a customary kiss on each cheek before she retired to bed. Wishing I was in the elevator heading up to her room with her, I decided that I needed to redirect my attention to the present and reality.

We were having drinks with about 15 different people from the tour in the Jolly Hotel bar. We ordered a couple bottles of wines, smoked a few cigarettes and chatted pretty freely about whatever came to mind. At this point, everyone was getting a bit tipsy, if not full blown inebriated. As time continued to pass, one by one people retired to their rooms to get some rest. Eventually, my parents said there goodbyes to me and Antony and made their way to bed. Morning would come early for them tomorrow as they had a 7 AM bus ride to Venice.

At this point, it was about 1 AM and the only people left at the bar were Antony and I, and 2 of the 4 girls from the East Coast. While we had all had a fair bit to drink, one woman, Cheryl, was extremely drunk. As we continued to talk, these women began to share more and more of their lives with Antony and I. After a while, Cheryl was in tears telling us about her best friend’s suicide that was the end result of many years in a manic depressive state. The suicide had happened years ago but she was recanting. We found it to be a bit sobering as we clutched our glasses of wine and just listened. I guess we really didn’t expect to get into a conversation of this type with people we barely knew at this point in the evening. Before long, the other woman, Erin, who was much less drunk, was sharing her suicide story. Her deceased husband also fought manic depression for years before finally succumbing to the disease and taking his own life. At this point, the only thing going through my mind was “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” I was glad to listen to their stories and enjoyed their company. I guess I was just surprised.

We did continue talking and Cheryl shared a more light hearted and entertaining story involving her making out with a guy she works with in the back seat of a limousine. Supposedly, he decided he needed to loosen his zipper and pull out his “member” to see if Cheryl was interested. As Cheryl put it, “I laughed at him and told him that my husband has a lot more than that inside his pants.” Not surprisingly, Cheryl also revealed that her marriage, while not being an open marriage, certainly wouldn’t end as the result of a little infidelity. It was getting a bit heated at the table as is the case after many drinks had brought us to the point of listening to a 40 year old women talk about sex with two 27 year old guys, in the presence of her best friend. I am pretty sure the night could have taken us in a few different directions but I decided to end it at the ‘interesting conversation’ point and head back to our humble abode for some much needed rest.

The next day Antony and I made another stop at Vivoli’s and saw a few more sights. Oh, and we bought some shoes. And suits. And ties. What are we, fucking women?

Back to the shoes. What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn’t thinking rationally. We passed by a shoe store not far from the Ponte Vecchio. It was hard not to notice the gorgeous shoes they had in the display case. They had that wonderful Italian style with such intricate details. I loved the shoes in this store and felt I had to go inside. I was greeted by an absolutely gorgeous sales associate. As I found out later, she was from Vienna and she was quite the Austrian beauty. I pointed out the shoes that I liked and she brought some pairs out for me to try on. At this point, I was more interested in the girl than the shoes as was obvious to anyone watching my eyes follow her every move. I tried to play it cool but it didn’t really work. As nice as the shoes were and as much as I did like them, they were red. I tried to convince myself that they were maroon and I would get a lot of use out of them but the bottom line was they were red shoes and it is difficult for a male to get away with wearing red dress shoes to work. However, all it took was a look, smile and a few words from the girl helping me to sway my thinking. She said, “The thing about these shoes is that you will always have a story about them.” Needless to say, I bought the shoes. God, I wish there was more to the story so that I could have more entertaining details to reveal when someone asks where I found those shoes at. In any case, this beautiful girl made my day in addition to adding to my wardrobe.

On my last night in Florence, I had the pleasure to enjoy a meal with my friend Antony and my parents alone. It was so great to be with my parents in Italy. My Dad was looking forward to getting away from his tour and doing his own thing for dinner. He loved it. We had traditional Tuscan cuisine in a small trattoria on a secluded street. Our dinner was highlighted by a free glass of wine and dose of limoncello courtesy of the restaurant in celebration of Italy’s World Cup qualifying soccer victory. The traditional Italian food brought back memories to my Dad from his childhood and the simplistic, yet wonderful aromas and flavors that come from a true Italian kitchen. I must say that this meal capped a wonderful trip to Italy and specifically to Florence. Having the opportunity to share this time with my close friend and my family made the experience that much more memorable.