Day 1 – The Sunken City
No, this isn’t about Atlantis—it’s about a much more tangible but equally exciting city and journey. After all, summer has arrived, and most people take their well-deserved vacation at this time of year. We were no exception, so it was time for our annual “csháládi” vacation. That’s right, you didn’t misread it—it’s pronounced “csháládi.” I actually received a little lesson on the correct pronunciation of this noble term back when I was a student from one of my favorite electrical engineering teachers, after the word “család” slipped out of my mouth.
“My little one, that’s not how you say it—hit that H hard; it’s pronounced ‘csHálád.’”
I’ll never forget that old guy—he was quite the character, the way he’d pull up in his Skoda 120, which by then was already in its twilight years, then, as he joined us, holding his cigarette between his middle and ring fingers and “puffing” on it—a real character.
So let’s hit the road—but where to, which way? A family with a truly “Italian” vibe could head nowhere else but Italy, so let’s dive right in.
After a pleasant combination of a garden barbecue, graduation celebration, and birthday party, we hit the road at dawn—of course, after checking everything before we left, with authentic Hungarian flavors in our hearts, and, of course, packed into bags in the form of salami sandwiches—heading toward Austria, with our first stop in Venice, since for me personally, that was one of the main destinations I wanted to see.
Even the trip there wasn’t without its experiences and emotions, even if I disregard the “I have to pee, let’s stop somewhere or I’ll pee all over your back seat” remarks. The first surprise came on the Austrian highway, though not primarily on our part. After one of our stops, I, too, had to do something about my steadily dropping blood sugar level, which I intended to do by aesthetically shoving a sandwich into my mouth, but a girl in the passenger seat of a car passing by stared at the process so intently that, in my girlish embarrassment, I just held it out to her and asked, “Do you want a bite too, or what?” —To this day, I’m not sure what to make of that—maybe it’s illegal to eat while driving? Oh well, let’s just have some fun. 😅
After some traffic jams and a few unexpected adventures on the Italian highway—we all know that GPS isn’t always our friend, so we got back on track with the help of the police—we finally arrived in Venice, and I parked in a parking garage where, right at the entrance, I was given instructions on which floor to go to find a spot—awesome. Once we got out, we looked around a bit, and then my mom suddenly said, “Damn, I understand what people are saying here—I think I know Italian.” 😂 It really seems like I wasn’t the only one who had the brilliant idea to park here—every other Hungarian who ended up here did too. After realizing early on that distances here can be quite long—especially on foot—we set out to find a water bus stop, and of course, not least of all, I wanted to see if the service was as good as the BKV…🚌
I think I can safely say that… it’s completely pointless to compare the two, but it was exciting to cruise along on this stinky old diesel boat, passionately greeting the people waiting for the bus at every stop, since the driver wasn’t exactly gentle about not scraping the thick rubber sides of the bus against the curb. Our journey took us to the city center, first to the Campo S.S. Giovanni e Paolo neighborhood, where we’d already half-melted under the scorching midday sun—like Chernobyl’s Reactor No. 4 in its heyday—so we ducked into a restaurant to grab a bite. The waiter took a liking to us right away, and after I ordered for everyone like a well-trained simultaneous interpreter, he soon served us our snacks. After lunch, a short walk, and the obligatory photo session, what could be more pleasant in this heat than a nice, cool ice cream, right?
Even a simple ice cream cone with two scoops is enough to keep me in good spirits, so I took a big scoop with the plastic spoon—using it like a catapult—and splattered my white T-shirt with a soft blend of pistachio and mango colors. My family just watched me nervously, wondering if I was going to freak out or not, but I just burst out laughing at how clueless I could be…😂 After that little show, we headed on to St. Mark’s Square to admire the iconic sights (you know, Assassin’s Creed, ahem…) and the Basilica—unfortunately only from the outside, since it was under renovation. On the way, we did spot a few traditional gondolas—of course, we couldn’t miss that, I thought—but the nearly 100€ they would have charged for a ride was enough of a deterrent for us to skip it after all.
After a brief sightseeing tour, we unfortunately had to leave the city, since we still had to find and check into the lodging we’d rented for that day—and, of course, get there, since it wasn’t exactly nearby. Did I mention that we hadn’t booked any accommodations in advance for the entire trip? It’s completely spontaneous—we book everything on the spot—because that’s the only way to make the trip truly adventurous. 😎
After a quick shopping trip and a long drive—falling for the fake speed cameras every single time and realizing that the speed limit here is just for informational purposes anyway— we arrived at our lodging around 11 p.m.—a small hotel where I’d told part of the family, who’d been sent ahead, to check in while I parked. Meanwhile, the guy at the front desk showed me which car I could park in front of without bothering anyone. The area was still bustling with life even at night; there was a party going on next door, but then again, we were right by the beach. We should go down and check out what’s going on—ah, no way; everyone was so tired that after a quick shower, the only thing on the agenda was flopping into bed from 1.5 meters away.
Day 2—Pisa, Italy
Since our lodging was right by the sea, we couldn’t pass up a pleasant swim in the early morning while no one else was on the beach. Or so I thought—but the beach attendants, who rent out the lounge chairs for a hefty daily fee, naturally couldn’t find anything better to do than pick a fight with us. With great difficulty, I managed to make them understand that we only wanted to be in the water for a few minutes—we didn’t give a damn about the grubby lounge chairs—so we dove right into the cool, salty sea. But man, was it salty… I guess it’s no wonder it’s not drinking water…😖 When we got back to the hotel, the guy at the front desk kicked off the morning with an interesting statement.
“Someone’s sleeping in your room.”
Well, for one thing, why did they go in before we’d even checked out… and for another, not everyone had come down to the beach—some people were still asleep. There’s only one way to react to this… sure enough, with a performance worthy of a Jászai Mari Award, I feigned surprise: “How on earth can they let all sorts of vagrants into this hotel? What kind of place is this, pray tell?” After the initial shock, we reassured the receptionist that the “sleeping lion” among us was actually one of us, checked out, and set off for our next “decisive” (haha) destination: Pisa.
We managed to park on a small street, followed by a short walk to the Torre Pendente di Pisa—a World Heritage Site—or, to put it simply, the Leaning Tower of Pisa and the park-like houses surrounding it. This building, made entirely of white marble, has a rather interesting history. It fully reflects Italian construction practices: construction began in 1173 and took more than 200 years—roughly equivalent to the renovation time for Metro Line 4 or any Hungarian highway. Of course, there were wars along the way with Genoa, Lucca, and Florence… seriously, can’t they get along with anyone? On top of that, the identity of the official architect remains unknown to this day… that’s a mystery. Originally, by the way, it was built as the bell tower of the Pisa Cathedral, with seven bells of different pitches, but it began to lean only after the third level was added. But according to legend, Galileo Galilei also dropped two cannonballs of different masses from here to prove that the speed of falling doesn’t depend on mass… well, I think someone teased him from below, and he just wanted to throw whatever was at hand. Anyway, enough history—let’s move on 😄
Even though we were surrounded by so many wonderful buildings and areas, it was actually a conversation between a middle-aged Hungarian couple that really hit the nail on the head. The lady asked the gentleman:
– Do you have your bag? – Yes. – Your phone? Your wallet? Are you missing anything?
My mom and I exchanged glances; to be honest, we couldn’t really hide it, since both of our faces were lit up with grins that were almost turning into laughter… well, yeah, they’re true-blue Hungarians 😂
After a little sightseeing and taking the obligatory photos of us leaning against the tower, we set off to check into our next lodging, which was closer to our destination for the following day. By the way, I don’t know what I did wrong with my GPS, but the poor thing took me down such narrow roads that there were places where, on a two-way, single-lane road, I had to navigate with a cliff on one side, and on the other, an oncoming car, with barely a centimeter between our side mirrors at times. The point is, we arrived, and after a quick, routine shopping trip to Lidl, we found our lodging tucked away on a small street. Of course, I wasn’t surprised at all that the host didn’t speak any English, but I was more surprised that we couldn’t really reach him by phone—after all, nobody answers calls from foreign numbers, right? After all, it’s not that cold when you have to sleep under the stars—but I’d already paid a fortune. After much difficulty coordinating with the neighbor, he called our host for us; we received a code and were able to retrieve the key from the holder, settling into our accommodations. This was actually quite nice—a three-bedroom apartment. We even had a nomadic yet authentic Italian dinner: spaghetti alla bolognese, with two kinds of sauce and two kinds of grated cheese—after all, you’ve got to know how to live, right? We agreed to go all out for the evening, so we bought olives and some wine—just as I’d learned in Spain—but there was one thing I hadn’t counted on. That “non-contagious” illness I got coughed in the face with at the graduation ceremony—because why would we cough into our elbows, right? We’ve learned our lesson after three years of COVID. So by evening, the symptoms kicked in, knocking some of us off our feet with a 40-degree fever. Great—that’s exactly how I planned it, and we still have one more day to go.
Day 3 – Oh Romeo, why are you…?
Our last day took us to Verona, the birthplace of Shakespeare’s most famous play. Even getting there was a bit of a joke, since as you drive through the city, you can’t tell if some of the streets are even meant for cars, if they’re one-way, or what the deal is. Exhausted and feverish, I finally made it into the old town, where the commotion behind me started up again—they were insisting we had to stop right away because all that liquid had taken its toll once more. I circled the same spot twice, turning around each time (keep this spot in mind for later—it might come in handy), before I gave up and managed to park a little further away. With the danger averted—and no one having to clean up the back seat—and with two strong fever reducers in my system, we set out to explore the rest of the city.
Our first stop was the arena, which at first glance—if you squint really hard—could be mistaken for a smaller Colosseum; after all, it is in Italy. The arena is still in use today; for example, the aforementioned play *Romeo and Juliet* is regularly performed there. The area around the arena and the main square are, by the way, very tastefully designed and well-maintained, so we sat down to eat a real Italian pizza, and since I decided that, given my condition, it might not be the best idea for me to drive right now, I ordered some cheap Italian wine to go with it. After that, we couldn’t miss out on visiting the iconic pilgrimage site—Juliet’s balcony. We found it—along with about 1,200 other people that day, some of whom had voluntarily taken on the role of Juliet.
After a long day, an even longer journey home awaited us, so we headed straight back from there to give ourselves a little time to recharge before our next trips.
After all, what’s coming next is something I’ve never experienced before—I’ve been traveling outside the country’s borders for a while now, but still within Europe. What if we crossed continents this time? Off to the USA! 🇺🇸✈️😎
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