Roving reporter post, from a train

CZ and I are on a train to Turin, from Milan. It's gray, raining, and bleak out, but warm. We're on a commuter train, but we have luggage, so we're sitting in the wheelchair seats where there's room. The porter said it was okay.

We're going to talk to people in Turin about their conservatory. The people a few seats over are discussing how the program works, and I wish I could understand them better. I love the accents.

My Italian is getting a workout. I'm getting over the fact that my grammar is laughable and my pride in the fact that I think I should be able to speak with a better accent than comes out at any given time. My favorite combination in conversation is to speak with an Italian who speaks some English, but not too well (this is most Italians who speak English). That way I can try to speak Italian until I get stuck, but then I have the luxury of punting. This is how I learned the word for "expire" yesterday--It's scadenza. I was trying to buy minutes for our Italian phones.

We're still a bit jet-lagged. It's 3:30 a.m. EST. We've been here twenty-four hours. But I things are going well and I am quite pleased to be able to write a blog post on a train in Italy.

And though it may sound shallow, I must admit it--the Italians dress much better than we do, and the coffee! Mamma Mia! I'd love another about now...

Ciao!

Location:Non lo so esattamente