Episode 7: Il Ponte Di Rialto - the Bridge on the Mound?

David and Chicca had organised the hotel rooms and, after handing over our passports (which is required so we can be reported to the police!), we found ourselves the proud tenants of a double room with king sized bed, tons of room around the bed for standing, lying on or running round, mini bar, bathroom with shower and toilet and everything you'd expect.

In lovely surroundings in a country you've not been to before, there's only one thing you can do - lie face down on the bed and sleep!

When Caroline and I woke up, it was about time to go out for something to eat. David had promised to take us to his favourite restaurant in the area and, since there was a vacuum-cleaner sucking inside my stomach, I was not going to turn the offer down. Unfortunately, this restaurant required a degree of walking - about FIVE WHOLE minutes worth to be precise. The scenery on the way was not too bad - sort of pleasanty summery small-towny… well, very nice actually. The restaurant was called "Il Nuovo Luno" or something like that - "The New Moon".

There was a table waiting for us in the conservatory-esque seating area and I'm sure that, had the weather been more hospitable, they could have done something to the roof to make it open-air. As it was, though, it was marvellous. It was marvellous for US, that is. Despite the obvious financial benefits to providing meals for 30 or so people, I imagine that the waiter was not impressed overall by his experience as our feeder. In all honesty, it was a recipe for disaster to him.

• Take 30 people who are tired after a long journey.
• Assemble them in a restaurant where they don't understand the language of the menu.
• Present them with an English menu halfway through their deliberations, which they still cannot understand.
• Realise that they are just foolish tourists and will not understand any form of organised language, so start to take their orders.
• Get all their orders and start bringing out food.
• Realise that some people didn't order.
• Realise that some people who didn't order are claiming the food you're bringing out for themselves, since it's what they WOULD have ordered.
• Realise that you're the only English speaking waiter and that your balding forehead is not going to be any hairier after the stress of the evening.

And that was just for the first course. Needless to say, the options were dramatically reduced from "What would you like from the menu?" to "Will you have ice-cream, or… not?". We got through our courses and paid about £10 each for the privilege, which was not bad, since that included wine, bread and plenty of food.

Unfortunately, I made a small faux pas in my order. I wanted a pizza and, in my defence, would have ordered the first thing on the menu and felt that that particular headliner item should reflect the cuisine of the place. In fact, the pizza I ordered was the first thing on the menu - the Americana pizza. Sounds OK? It looked okay on paper. I read the bill of toppings, which included Frankfurter sausage - which I like on pizza, when it's done well (and you assume it will be done well in Italy) and Patate Fritate - fried potates (so I thought). I was assuming that it would be sauted potato - a bit of a novelty. When the English menu circulated, I found I'd mistranslated - the English menu said it would be fried tomatoes - even better.

My pizza turned up with cut-up hot dog and chips on it! I mean french fries - like at MacDonalds.

It was nice.

Quite honestly, I would have eaten and enjoyed it if it had turned up with a big mac in the middle of it.

After the meal, back to the hotel for a proper sleep. In the morning, we were going to Milan.

Episode 8

Written: May 1998
Posted: 30 October 2001
Ashley Frieze