To Distant Areas: From Brescia to Alberobello.

I invented a new rating system for the Italian hotels. After years of experience, I decided to mark them by basing of presence of put or fitted carpet. It will "carpet" and "no carpet". I understand that I make a controversial act because existence of a carpet in an Italian hotel considers as a mythical existence but it has, believe me. I saw it by myself in Atlante Garden Hotel, which was a place I stayed in Rome for Christmas.

Hotel Igea, which in Brescia and there I was going to stop, had on pictures rooms with a fitted carpet. I decided to discover if it’s truth or myth… well, you know, I’m not so crazy to come for this.

I crossed long corridors of stuffy of people and look of a third-world country, which Milan Bergamo was. Eventually, I decided not to visit this place again though I was a fish in a water there. My sleeping reflexes in orientation and knowing what to do woke up.

I waited for an hour a bus to Brescia by entertaining myself by walking from one end to another a couple of times. No of cafes offered a tasty food. Eventually, I discovered a cash desk where I bought a ticket to Brescia.

That bus driver did typical Italian – took fast speed and once committed the abrupt pushing breaks though it wasn’t harsh in comparison what I had once before.

Brescia was an unnoticeable ugly place. North industrial cities of Italy aren’t pretty as I admitted in crossing streets in this visit.

Same toward mentality of many people on which I pointed in a past. Cold North. All wanted to be a serious and they were not honest if desired to show a cordiality. It was from a ticket seller in Milan Bergamo. While true in feelings people were in the bus drivers who shook heads and didn’t respond from greeting. It was just mentality in these parts. Only open and inner attracting was in an adult lady in a reception who always said “boun giorno” (she had all right English except she didn’t get a sense of my questions in a little of times). Maybe, she was from more a south part but I can’t make a conclusion here. However, Italy is different everywhere.

I arrived in Brescia for one sight, which was Museo Mille Miglia. A receptionist, who accepted me and was of these fakes though he was almost a polite man, was wrong on where I should stop in doing trip by metro. Foremost, he made a discovery for me on existence of underground but my museum isn’t in the very end. The closest to sight was two stations before the last one on which a person behind a desk indicated. I took a penultimate stop because a map informed on tangled street made road longer as it seemed.

I left my stop and moved, as I believed, on the right side but I lost. These cicadas were in hundreds when I was under leafs of one tree and listened their synchronized sounding. I walked through places which were deserted in finding a soul. People were far away. But I met two Italians with whom I was in crossing of paths. Probably, it was a very adult man with his mother. They didn’t speak English but they guided me to location. There came truth I was on the incorrect side. We crossed roads and the cars stopped to surprises. A pair expressed a gratitude to drivers by saying and doing a hand wave. I watched on how they exchanged in greetings with locals. One of these men presented a typical country’s stereotype. It was an old man who sat on café’s chair and smoked. We stopped at taps with water. A woman offered to fresh myself. I did it with her probably son. A little later, I wanted to support stance by showing my great knowledge of Italian by saying “bene” in how I’m feeling after pouring water on myself. It did raising up of atmosphere. They rarely come with talking, which hardly were understandable. Once an old lady asked on my origin. I understood that she thinks I’m a German. Eventually I confirmed her thought, because it is so. These walks in Brescia’s end made me to see it’s a provincial city which accepted industrialism a little bit. I tried to get information on how many minutes left due to we moved long and I didn’t recognize what I saw on a virtual map. We were somewhere in between of buildings and fields with no soul around. All that brought me to logical thoughts that they want to kidnap me (despite it was a frail woman and a usual human is taller of any Italian male on several dozen centimeters at least). We came to a straight road. A man said an understandable to me that Museo Mille Miglia in the end of this road. I gratitude both and I heard well wishes from these magnificent people.

An entrance was to automobiles’ museum was shut though informed on being open every day. I came in a working time and nothing informed on vice versa. Not the best feeling that you made a long road and saw that. I walked around from different angles and followed indicators. One place had a smell, my apologizes, of urine. Eventually I entered inside through parking line in my second try. There was revelation that I was supposed to make a long hook for come on a territory which could be shorter if a main entrance would be available for crossing. Meet Italians!

It is a beautiful museum. You can look everywhere and get delight in aspirations of saving cars as they are. I walked and had desire to take a drive of many of these cars. Jaguar XK120 was one of these first and it is a phenomenal wonder on wheels by outside and inside designs and all technical characteristics. I wanted to sit and steer Aston Martin LeMans and Fiat Bernardini 1100 Sport. I don’t take a big speed for foremost because that thing accept people who don’t understand a beauty of automobiles. In the occasions, I could catch a lovely old smell of interior. I moved and didn’t let sweat to fall but I was rude, alas. It happened two times and I felt bad myself in these moments.

I saw machines, which corroborated on no necessity to visit rejected museums. I was in rapture by looking on Alfa Romero Conrero Sport 2000 and Alfa Romeo Giuletta Sprint whike the later reminded on desire to drive with a side gearbox.

A lot of racing cars in the museum. A lot of Fiat there what is only a fact. I saw another impression in engineering and wishful to steer. These were Maserati A6 GCS/53, Lancia Aurelia B24 S, Lancia Aurelia B24 Spider “America” and AC Ace Bristol. It was chronologically made museum. Every period showed a recreation of surface which was under feet behind window. The documentaries were broadcasting and sometimes activate a music of epoch. Between automobiles were items, which were from respective times. I liked a unique photo camera, a jukebox, all unusual TV sets and combination of radio and vinyl player. I wanted to be there.

There was Triumph TR 2, which view left in misunderstanding. Why was roof cover an interior?

I believed that saved a route back in memory but I was gravely mistaken. I took a different direction which led me to the closest station. A straight way from there existed.

What can I say on room? It was “no carpet”. However, a floor was covered in a polished desk and it more pleases your feet than a tile but it was “no carpet”.

That receptionist was same wrong with reaching of Milan Malpensa. I didn’t need to come to Milan for a shuttle.

You think about emigrants striving to relocate to a good country but when you see that they, as many inhabitants, don’t see life. Move for do a simple job. It’s happiness for those who hadn’t it in a native land, but I don’t find as successful if you meet ends as that usually with migrants.

An entrance to my zone in Milan Malpensa was possible only through a big lift. An escalator was in repairing state and title informed on apologizing for that. There was no a plain stairway. The big lift almost filled of people but there was a little place for me who had just a backpack. A mechanism didn’t activate for long. Somebody said on calling security. A Black human asked on come closer because it will activate. I did it but nothing happened. I moved my hand around of body of that male and pressed on button which closed doors. It activated. An Italian man began to talk with me on limited English that I should come closer. I explained him on pushing the button. He didn’t understand it and started to perceive me that I’m an antagonistic person. It was useful and very likely, as I saw with many Italians in Alberobello, they didn’t understand my pronunciation.

An airport wasn’t organized with a metal detector checking by sharing of it’s security worker on two queues while there were many of places for passage of that control. I wouldn’t believe on existence of lack for put or hire a personnel for these jobs.

You can lost in alcohol section for hours and forget on your flight. I asked a working there lady on existence of variable whisky and bourbon. It usually absent. I recalled another bottles and came back. I apologized for my intrusiveness but she accepted it as fine. We had a wonderful conversation about that topic. I took off my drink list for ask of forgotten. I approached to her again and I disclosed my sacred papers by showing her to them. I came to her with saying “I have three more questions on one million dollar”. She liked my joke. I called and showed two wishful brands. There were not again. I lost in memory and view the one more. There were other client, which was in a male and female pair, and I said that I don’t want to hold her now. She came to talking with them. Between that, she turned to me and asked on say to her the last drink. I named but it wasn’t again. Meantime, I was minding on Johnnie Walker Blue Label. It escaped from me in Scotland. I wanted to have it finally. And, honestly, I didn’t want to carry a big bottle between flights whereas there was also a variant in two hundred milliliters which I could use before taking seat to Bari. Or do that when I will reach Alberobello though it would be in a very late time. I’ve told her on my direction and there lady warned me that you can’t acquire a high-degree alcohol in domestic flights. She said that here in Italy can buy something in a food while nothing in her Panama. A fact of her coming from explained why I had this magical conversation.  Sometimes she didn’t understand my said by pronunciation and unknown word, which wasn’t often, because her English was very good.

The lady said on trying with acquiring of whisky before that. I decided because a price wasn’t exaggerated and I didn’t know when I’ll meet Johnnie Walker Blue Label again. I said to her that I want this bottle so badly. There I also said “I don’t believe in miracle but I have two hours before flight”. We moved to a cash desk. A girl from Panama uttered to me that crossed fingers. I did it but a thing didn’t work.

We saw each other again. I said on what happened to where added that I will take in the next time and I don’t want this drink so badly. A Panama lady said wise words. I laughed her mentioning of “the Universe” but she uttered that “no” doesn’t exist there. It was rapture to take her hand when she offered a handshake.

I wanted to connect to airport’s wi-fi and succeeded after long time but it didn’t work. I ignored a free alternative in Starbucks because their far-left inclination. No whisky. No wi-fi.

As everything in a natural balance, everything was corrupted in Milan Malpensa. The bathroom’s items worked abnormal. I’m sorry, but a toilet activated by own initiative. A tap pours in short quantities and you must wait for activate mechanism another time. A drier for hands works once in rare times. I would never come back to here anymore. It doesn’t matter because I haven’t anything for visit in these regions.

Some things are wonderful as do squatting with a big weight for wake up in the morning and walk as a shot duck. There are things which not everybody can discover and get. As that I had in seeing a beauty and unique in Palmanova from the sky. Nothing to do there on the ground as I noticed in learning. Same in specialty with watching on Venice from above and Vesuvius from an undocking ship. However, the biggest unique thing is see a scream of an Italian woman. It’s alike to sound of river’s water. I heard one of them in checking-in on flight. She began a scandal with airport workers on, as revealed, about overweight of luggage. It was listening of crisp of a wood in burning fire. There I could understand why I was fascinated by Italian ladies. Believe, if they would start to scream on me, I would smile and listen this voice of siren.

I became more vigilant with Italy. I did checking on strikes because that also can be with airplanes. Nothing was planning to occur in this visit while a national airport strike in July 26 willn't care me in the second stage.

I watched on craziness of traffic from Bari Airport to it’s third country city in was driving me bus. A driver often pressed horn. Many times with no reason. He could stop earlier but moved more further of “stop” line. The most blatant was giving sound to pedestrians began walking on their area. He asked them to retreat. That bus driver made a discovery for me by telling on existence of train to Alberobello. Although I checked about it before trip and didn’t detect. That man repeated a line where I should take movement more than once while I told him that already has it’s written down name. He didn’t hear my saying.

That was madness in discover of truth. I came at nine of evening. The last train was gone. It seemed same with a bus. I returned on arrived side and acquired a bus ticket. I tried to ask locals but they didn’t know and their English wasn’t fine. I came back to that second side with guide of a soldier. There I met a worker who wanted to find my route among trains and reached him by uttering “no treni”. He showed me a right direction. There I crossed road, I saw a signage with a route in which I saw “Alberobello”. But I asked one lady there. She responded with a good accent on no knowledge of English. I pronounced a name of a city. She confirmed it.

I knew before coming that I can see everything within small time as I could do it for that evening. However, I wanted to look on trulli in a day of light. A history of time of their appearance is unknown. Probably, their light structure was built for evading taxes. I was mesmerized by watching on these amazing edifices in real. I wanted to touch them for sense their materials. I did so. An evening weather was in a blessed warm.

I began with visiting a trulli church at nine o’clock. An early morning is the best period due absence of people and that makes to sense a magnificence. I came a little later but when I walked in places with no people, I experienced that excitement by staying in a surrounding of genius constructions. I was in trulli’s church with two men of faith, which prayed. That made me to get that building, which specialty didn’t cause church fatigue.

Then I walked streets of trulli, climbed on the best points, made a look on a singular Siamese trullo and I walked in Rione Aia Piccola, a part of the oldest construction and their individuality in non-white color. There was a hedge, which behind of it was a ruined one and it made to see inside of a roof what was additional completion for curiosity and getting knowledge. A beige cat with the black stripes wasn’t far. Perhaps, it was her kitten had same colors, which I saw running few seconds. These animals, which I saw a couple more, didn’t bother on people and were frozen in their poses.

As I noticed before coming, these places created a discomfort by presence of souvenir shops with symbolic overpriced a miniature trulli. These places were unlikeable but they don’t make a disgust, which I had in San Gimignano. One more desecration was a movement of transports came for work purposes.

Apulia cuisine had another variety of pasta but their variations are too fat by much poured sauce which is a sloppily dropped in a big quantity. They do that too much sprinkling. Their focaccia with additional of “barese” in a name but to there just put tomatoes. If you want to keep your shape and don't know which diet to choose - visit Apulia!

That simplicity reversed with Osteria delle Catene again and eventually. Their venue didn’t care on modernized presentation in the dishes. But I tried to see an extraordinary in their ordinary pici with a pepper and cheese. Even college kid could… no, can’t. Let it be more correct. Every canteen does such dish. I watched on their plates with that pasta – this palce likes to overpepper it and does in a center. Committing to aesthetics kills. Also there is adding of parsley, which is a canteen touch to where I make another more reference.

I understood. I comprehended a truth. I never had bufala and prosciutto pizzas! Gli Ulivi in Alberobello offered prosciutto but it was with oregano instead arugula. It didn't make sense. I wanted to visit it for have bresciola. I walked around and met nice Italians who guided me even though one woman didn’t know right. There revealed, as assumed and I was warned without preciseness in a hotel I stayed, that I needed to move through a roadside, which was tiny. I made a hook by recalling that Italians can enter in that zone and I was on a side of coming transport who have no vision in their intricate turn. An automobile appeared in front of me and touched that area as I just thought not so far. I ran on parallel side. It wasn’t a big distance but I thought on familiar that Italy can’t organize zones for pedestrians. Moreover, these boulevards in Alberobello were small, which were of usual in this state.

This waitress hadn’t working English. Her speaking was a combination of her native and limited of my language. She believed I understand her saying Italian. Nevertheless, I ordered brasciola. However, I waited a big time for hear on “finished” with that. This was pronounced with exclamation. She repeated it once or two more when I continued talking on different. No apologizes, which, I believe, she was capable to say in her limited dictionary but that ability didn’t exist in her savage manners. I could pay only for service (I always forget on this inferiority though Gli Ulivi was a real canteen in quality) and water because both I already began to touch. I had attention to bresciola, a Lombardian meat. She didn’t come for long again. A substituted more adult waiter took a plate and showed his rudeness in bending of it for slip a napkin on a table. I received a usual cut meat with overloaded (I see it’s a tradition here) of ordinary and unimpressive cheese and some of arugula. Certainly, I’m all right with prices but these twelve euros for dish were too much. I concluded in a detailed observation, that costing on one euro more brasciola was simple in containment and cooking – a typical in an Italian cuisine despite on their many splendid things as gnocci, pasta and pizza. That waiter thanked me more than once but I said one standard word. Later I understood that I paid for experience of meeting of Apulia cuisine.

I returned in same way through the roadside. One driver with sunglasses made a short signal. I demonstrated a middle finger before he lost from my vision. I make efforts to evade myself from doing a degradation act but I couldn’t do other there. I wanted to show what I’m thinking about his harmful move and which he did without a point, because I didn’t violate anything. And who knows? Maybe, my car has broken. Later I thought that if I had in memory or learnt a very insulting Italian gesture, I would demonstrate it because I was ready to a war to which that man wasn’t likely.