Quick update from Bosnia

I think if I got to design heaven it would be an infinite downhill slope, and there's really great scenery, and you have a bicycle, and sometimes it gets snowy and you can switch to skis, but you still get to keep going downhill, unless you want to take breaks for mild uppers and downers.

The difference between that and the past couple days is that I'm currently creating my own "downhill" by riding a scooter (it's like bicycling but cheating), and that in the real world you can't take mild downers and drive.

My route has been Ascoli Piceno, Italy to Ancona, Italy to Split, Croatia (ferry!) to Dubrovnik, Croatia, to Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina, where I am now. Tomorrow I'm heading to Sarajevo where I'll rest for a day (whew!). I'm on an internet cafe computer so I'll have to say the following are coming soon:
- photos!
- a bit of description about Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Croatia for that matter
- maybe a description of the ferry trip and pondering living in a sort of bubble where I don't meaningfully interact with any people for a few days but this is okay
- a little bit of Bosnia border shakedown
- maybe a map if I'm feeling creative

Another fun thing: eating food in Italy

So this isn't some grand sweeping post about the best bresaola and risotto and capellini and vino and oh my god even the fennel is the best in the world. I didn't eat a lot of awesome things. I'm sure all these great things were here. But I don't know much about them, they're expensive, they require sitting down to a meal, and even then, I don't really care. It's all meat and cheese and white flour, none of which I really want to incorporate into my diet more.

However! I did take this chance to get well acquainted with three of the many Italian food groups:

1. Coffee. (duh.) "Caffe" is always espresso (always), it's always right around the corner, and it always costs one euro. I'm no espressoman myself, but in my humble opinion they ranged from good to great. I mean great, from roadside shops and gas stations. This is a nice surprise, because you'll never get a good cup of drip without seeking out a shop that specifically makes good drip coffee; in Italy you can drink coffee wherever and sometimes it's great.

Espresso is weird, though: it doesn't last very long! As a result, cafes have a bar where they serve the espresso, people stand up and drink it, pay, and leave. Takes about two minutes start to finish; feels like you're shooting up. If you run into someone on the street and you say "let's go for a caffe", it means "let's do conversational pleasantries and then leave." If you want say a 15 minute conversation, you go for an "aperitivo" (drink); if you want to hang out for like two hours you go for a meal. This leaves a big gap in the 30-60 minutes range, which is almost always the amount of time I want to spend with someone while we're consuming something. Dear Italy: the way you prepare your coffee has social consequences that I don't like.

You can put sugar in your espresso, I guess. If you want milk, you can order macchiato* or con panna or cappuccino. (But don't order cappuccino any time besides breakfast or you're a goofball.) Also, some (usually cheap) shops have started advertising "caffe ginseng" and "caffe orzo"; these sound interesting, but do not be fooled! they are travesties on the level of gas station "cappuccino."

* this is "caffe macchiato", or "marked coffee", which is to say, coffee marked with a little milk. It's not a Starbucks "macchiato." The confusion happens because a Starbucks macchiato is short for "latte macchiato", "marked milk", milk marked with a little bit of coffee. In the US I guess this causes baristas headaches when they make a caffe macchiato for someone who ordered a "macchiato" but meant "latte macchiato". Hard to say what went wrong, but I think it was when Starbucks started convincing people that "latte macchiato" is the main "macchiato" and furthermore that it is an acceptable "coffee drink".

So how do people make coffee at home, if they only drink espresso? They use a Moka pot. This is a cool device that I want to explain how it works here because I just figured it out, but it's hard to explain without having one to look at and take apart. It makes strong, bitter coffee, somewhere between drip and espresso. If you like sugar, you can take a bit of coffee from the Moka pot and mix it with some sugar and it sort of makes a coffee-sugary cream, which you can then put in your Moka coffee and it looks like the crema on top of an espresso. I guess this is desirable?

2. Pizza. I think I subsisted mostly on pizza here. Always thin crust, usually crispy and delicious. The toppings provide a solution to the conundrum of wanting to try some intense food (say, prosciutto) but not wanting to buy a whole damn sausage. If you sit down at a restaurant, you'll get a whole pie, while take-out shops just sell slices. Either way, it's pretty good, and definitely the cheapest/tastiest way to survive.

3. Gelato. Gelato shops are everywhere! Always get a small cone; it costs about a buck fifty and it's plenty. You get two (sometimes even three?) choices of flavors, and they'll be confused if you only pick one. All the flavors look so good, so you're forced to make a difficult choice, and I can't help you there. You could try the popular "zuppa inglese" ("English soup"?) which is (un)fortunately not as gross as it sounds. (It's some mix of cream and fruits.) Oh, also, I can't help you figure out if a place has good gelato or not; I've had mixed experiences. You will have to try a few until you find a really good one, and then just wolf down gelato nonstop until you have to move towns.

I wish I were lower-maintenance.

I don't mean "low maintenance" like most people, like not wanting fancy cars or jewelry or whatever. I mean it like my friend Daniel means it. I wish I could photosynthesize and generate my own heat. I wish I didn't have to think about what to eat or where to sleep, so I could just take off whenever and wherever.

This trip is so fast-paced, more stuff is happening than I can mentally process.This is not a complaint; it's somewhat by design. But it still means that I'm slightly frustrated by the amount of time it takes just to get up, brush teeth, shower, eat, dress, etc.

(another cool idea for a trip might be to not try to mentally process anything! don't blog or take pictures! it would probably be rather freeing. don't worry, not planning on it this trip.)

Bosnia, let's do this.

Or, "another post in which Dan says he's going to somewhere that sounds dangerous." (this one really isn't, though! even the ever-cautious US state department is not warning against it!)

I've got a ferry ticket from Ancona, Italy to Split, Croatia. Then I'm headed north to Poland. Google Maps is pretty weak in Bosnia and Herzegovina, so it routes me around through Croatia... but Bosnia is more direct. And interesting; who's been to Bosnia? Croatia sounds cool too, like Dubrovnik and the Plitvice lakes, but y'know those are crowded. But then, maybe Bosnian roads are sketchy?

But maybe maybe a lot of things! Whatever! This sounds like an adventure! Let's go through Bosnia!

The plan now:
Tomorrow: get to Ancona, Italy, and take the ferry to Split, Croatia
May 4: hang out in Split
May 5: Split from Split (har har!) to Mostar, Bosnia
May 6: Mostar-Sarajevo
May 7: Sarajevo
May 8: Sarajevo-Banja Luka
May 9: Banja Luka-Pecs, Hungary
May 10: hang out in Pecs
May 11: Pecs-somewhere else in Hungary
May 12: that somewhere to Kosice, Slovakia
May 13: Kosice
May 14: Kosice to somewhere in Poland
May 15: that somewhere to Lublin, where my friend Anu is living.

How about this! Now this is an adventure. Let me know if you have any suggestions. Yes!

In search of Giuseppe Tassi: Ascoli Piceno and Offida

So my dad is Jeff, and his dad is Leo, and they were all born in the US, and that's as far back as I know. But I've heard that Leo's dad (my great-grandfather) was one Giuseppe Tassi, who was the one to come over to the US from Italy. And then I heard that he (and some other relatives) came from a town called Offida. Here's the story of how I sought it out.

First stop, Ascoli Piceno:

It's the biggest town in the area, and I had a name and address (no phone number) of a Lino and Germana Francheschi who lived here. So I got a place to stay and sought them out. Found their place, but no answer at their door. So I went on to Offida itself.

I had a couple of possible connections here. First, Enrica Tassi at Via Cipoletti 49. Turns out Via Cipoletti ends at 47 (hah!). But I asked a guy and he asked a lady and they said "Tassi? They live over here at the piazza." I rang the doorbell, and no answer. As I was leaving, a nice younger couple was exiting the house. I said "Signor, Signora Tassi?" They were a little confused, but she spoke English, so I explained my goofy situation and she said yeah, two Tassi sisters live in the other rooms in the house. Turns out Giuliana was home, so we rang her bell again, and she came down to say hi.

Another Tassi, Elvira, was at work at the theater (taking tickets; it's a tourist attraction) so we went to visit her too. They were nice folks, but I couldn't figure out anything to say other than "good to meet you" and sort of explain my situation in broken Italian, so I left it at that and moved on.

They said "oh hey, another Tassi, Peppino, lives around the corner on Via del Merletto."

I went for a look.

No! Giuseppe Tassi! Could it be? I mean, he's my great grandfather and dead, but... is this his house? Did he used to live on this very street, walking through these cobblestones and stuff to get to farming or making barrels or whatever the heck he did?

Short answer: nope, it's another Giuseppe Tassi.

He's a friendly guy. I think. At first when I rang his doorbell, I sort of said "hi, my name's Dan Tasse, uh, my grandfather's name is Tassi, uh... ?" and he looked out of his window sort of annoyed and said something that sounded like "No thanks, I'm not interested, what are you doing, leave me alone." But then he came down and invited me in, he poured us each half a beer, and we talked for about a half hour in broken Italian. (I mostly just spoke Spanish. It was a silly mess.)

Long answer: Well, he is Giuseppe Tassi. (He's also Peppino Tassi. Giuseppe = Peppe = Peppino. It's a nickname.) But he's not the Giuseppe Tassi I'm looking for. (of course. because my great grandfather is dead.) He had no children, and as far as I can tell, he knew none of the other people I was talking about. Strange coincidental name? More distant relation? Why did all the Tassi's keep naming their sons Giuseppe? God (or a fluent Italian speaker) only knows.

I had one more name in my notebook. Given my half-luck so far, and the awkwardness involved in explaining why the heck I'm there, I almost just gave up. But it started to rain, and I found myself right outside Luciana Tassi's house, so I figured might as well give it a shot.

She started out equally confused, but then became quite excited to see me once she realized what I was on about. She invited me in, made me a coffee, her energetic little dog jumped all over me, and explained as much history of her side of the family as she could. The story gets a little more confusing from there (and involves at least one more Giuseppe!) but I think I figured out that we actually are related, and learned about some of the folks that she knows. Email me if you want the details.

Giuseppe (her father), center; Cesare (top right), her grandfather, who went to America.

I leave you with a couple of other things that were in Offida that day:

Santa Maria della Rocca. Cool church. Crypt on the first floor, church on the second. Looks like they built the crypt first then smashed a church on top of it just for kicks.

Boxing! Why not?

Even just being around Offida, it was neat to think that my actual forefathers did actually ramble around these streets (probably just like they are now) on their way to the fields or the barrelmaker's shop or whatever the hell they did. Made it all the way here, and I'm calling this a success. A little bit of roots: discovered! A+ all around, good job team. More photos!

How it is to motorcycle through Italy

Here is how I've gone:

A was the starting part from Switzerland in to Italy. It was awesome.

B was when I got lost all the live long day trying to avoid Brescia (just because it's a big city). Argh argh! Navigation is difficult on a motorbike because I can't take my eyes off the road or my hands off the handlebars. I can't even write stuff on my hands because I'm wearing gloves. All I can do is memorize the next couple turns, then try to do them, then pull over to the side of the road to check my phone to see if I did them right. (thank god for phone + google maps + gps. the ability to quickly check if I'm going in kinda the right direction or not is incredibly useful.)

C was uneventful and mostly crummy, going through developed flat parts of Italy. It made me think "Italy is like California: nice weather, overdeveloped and tacky, and super popular, and I don't see what all the fuss is."

D was also uneventful, but at least it was mostly a straight shot on the same road, so navigation was easy. Just follow the road to Rimini. (but not all the way to Rimini. ugh.)

E was when I decided "hey, I am near San Marino. I wonder what's in San Marino. I might as well visit San Marino. Worst case, I get to check another country off my list." This was a mistake. (but hey, checked another country off my list.)

F was small hill towns through Emilia-Romagna, Umbria, and Tuscany. (Hi Mom, I'm riding a scooter through Tuscany.) It was awesome.

Eventually I made it to Ascoli Piceno, but that's a topic for another post.

Stories from the road:

- I am glad I have a full-face helmet, not only because of accidents but also because more than a few bugs have hit me in the face.

- Most of the gas stations here in Italy have no people, they're just 24-hour pay-at-the-pump stations. Which is fine, except they don't take my credit card. You can pay with cash, but my bike takes about 15 euro tops to fill up, and they don't give change. (I guess you can take the receipt to get change later?) So I'm hoarding 10-euro bills to fill up 5.37 liters at a time.

- Tunnels are surprisingly fun.

- Corners are surprisingly difficult. I find myself braking a lot before turns. I think it's like skiing: I err on the side of caution and bleed off more speed than is necessary. This is fine. Someday, if I keep riding, I'll take some classes and get better at cornering.

I've just seen two bits of life that I envy in two different ways.

First I stayed with a couch surfer named David in a mountain town in Switzerland. (I posted pictures last time.) Wonderful solitude! This picturesque valley, little Swiss houses, big Swiss mountains. He said "Do you like deer? They come out at night and hang out over there." (pointing to some land literally next to his house)

Last night in Breno, Italy, and more so tonight in Modena: wonderful socializing! They both have cobblestone old city centers, and both were full of people. Especially tonight; it felt like a grand festival, but I'm pretty sure it's just another Saturday night. Perfect 70 degree weather, restaurants and cafes with outdoor seating. Beautiful people out, y'know, being beautiful.

Italian city centers are what we lost when we moved to car-centric suburbs, and Swiss mountain towns are what we never quite gained.

Here's one bit of life I don't envy: slogging through flat bits of Italy and getting lost a lot. I went 200km in the right direction today; pity that I also went 100km in the wrong direction. Well, I guess not all the roads can be Swiss and amazing. (I think I may be spoiled for the rest of the trip. It's hard to compete with riding through the Alps.)