France. V. Italy
When my wife and I were both self-employed and working from home -her running a domestic cleaning business with about twenty employees and me a freelance trainer in International Trade / Export Management.
Both, working hard but earning a good living and compensating with two or three holidays each year.
A lot of which were sailing – mostly solo in in the South Ionian islands of Greece – see earlier posts ‘I am Sailing’ 1 -4, and ‘Flotilla 1 – 7.
Others, to our favourite country Italy:
My first trip to Italy had been – with Jean and her parents to Sorrento – west coast near the Bay of Naples – mainly because Jean’s dad – Ernie – had been stationed there during the war – a lucky man. As the Italians had basically surrendered and it’s a beautiful region. – he nearly didn’t come back home.
– Jean having worked there, in Florence, for about four years in her late teens and still pretty fluent – and later on, a NatWest posting to a partner bank in Milan for six months.
I got three return flights to visit – courtesy of NatWest – first class – rather than Jean coming home for a break. Milan became my favourite city in the world – after two or three days there.
Plus -a completely unrelated development – a few years later – I delivered a four-day course for the British Consulate in Milan and had a couple of good nights out with the locals.
We also -for a change and a try-out -did a two-week sailing holiday out of Marmaris’ mariner in the south of France – and a few long weekends in Paris and I had tagged on to a couple of student trips to France with the Travel & Tourism Department of the College.
So, what’s the point? I hear you say!
France V Italy – for me it’s Italy every time – and I have two pieces of empirical evidence to support it. – primarily to do with the nature of the people – as both countries are equally beautiful
Case Study – France
Jean and I decided to drive to Marmaris for our sailing holiday and make time to see a bit of France on the way down.
over to hull – North Sea Ferry early into Zeebrugge and all the way south with a printed AA route – no Satnav then – should get there in daylight.
Eventually stop for lunch in a large town called Orange – rather than a motorway service. Found some parking and had a stroll – lovely sunny day and spotted a relatively busy restaurant with an outside patio overlooking an open square.
Found a table for two and menus on the table – looked nice – I chose the Salad Niçoise – can’t remember what Jean picked. Waited a while as the single waitress came out and back in – serving and clearing up.
Then a group of about twelve arrive and are seated by her at a reserved table – waitress – chatting away – obviously knew them.
Goes back in – ignoring us. Back out and straight to the big table taking orders – I am now teed off.
As she turned to go back in, I waved my menu at her at her, caught her eye – she sort of acknowledged me – then went back inside. To put the order for the big table into the kitchen no doubt.
We discussed leaving and finding somewhere else – but been a long day and drive already and we don’t know the place – decide to be patient.
Maybe another 6-7 minutes – and about to just give up – she comes out – and wave my menu again and she does stop and comes over – doesn’t look happy – neither do we.
ordered food and two glasses of white wine – Jean could have another if she wanted.
Waitress – then says something in French very quickly – I have schoolboy French and some skill in ordering drinks – but I don’t catch what she said. I try – ‘lentamente, s’il vous plait’ – which I think is – ‘slowly please’.
She lets out a very audible sight – snaps her pad closed and almost stomps off – and I am not exaggerating.
Now Jean is teed off as well – we discuss options. She is just up for leaving – but I have a better idea.
While discussing – two glasses of wine arrive served by someone else.
My idea – it will take them a while from when the order goes into the kitchen and more people are coming in – it’s pretty busy.
What we do is have a drink and allow a bit of time for our order to get into the kitchen and is prepared – as I say that she appears at the door – right in my line of vision – looking what needs doing – and just goes back in – I suggest we try to time our exit to when ours might be getting plated up – still orders going to other tables and her in and out – if we can pick a time when she goes in and do runner then – ideally she comes out with our order and we are gone, Jean agrees – finish the wine – I put five Francs under the ash tray to cover the cost – we are not thieves, Prepare for a flit – jean’s bag on her shoulder – got my purse and watching the door like a hawk – she comes out empty handed sees an empty table and clears the plates – I say to Jean – ready – when I say go – follow me.
Waitress back inside. – GO! We are off through the doorless exit to a side road and running right to get behind the building and out of sight – then right to go round the back and continue down the back of other buildings until we get a right turn about 50 metres from the restaurant -back up to the square – out of sight of the restaurant and moving away to somewhere close to the car – and we escaped – though a bit puffed – probably because we were laughing like a pair of hysterical kids.
My hoped-for outcome –
We timed it right – so, the next time she came out she had our food and only then realised that we had gone.
She goes back in and tells her boss that we have done a runner – and – it is not the first time that it’s happened – and he says – ‘what have you said or done now?’ She pleads innocence but he doesn’t believe her and gets mad and gives her a last warning.
I wouldn’t like to be even partially responsible for someone losing their job – not even her – but maybe she got to think twice.
I am, of course, not suggesting that that behaviour is common in France – but in all our visits to Italy we have never seen anything like that.
In fact, often exactly, the opposite.
Case Study – Italy
When Jean was working for NatWest in Milan. I was able to visit about three times. We got into a routine in which she went to work – just a fifteen-minute walk away and I had a lie in and walked over to meet her for lunch – often with her colleagues.
There were exceptions – one day – with some assistance from Jean with correct Italian phrases which she wrote down for me –
I walked to the main train station and got a ticket to Lake Como – got there and took the funicular up to the top for a magnificent view.
Then down again and a pleasant walk to Lake Lugano and a lunch overlooking the water.
Out of season – had the whole place to myself.
Then a train to Milan and home safely before Jean.
Another day – usual routine. I walk to meet her outside the bank for lunch. En-route I knew a small bar where I could cool off after the walk with a small beer and air conditioning,
One day I am a bit early – thought, another small beer – went to the bar
and – always practicing my Italian, I say, ‘un’altro birra per favore’
Barman – knowing that I was sort of a regular – shakes his head, and says, ‘No, Sir’.
I say, ‘Si. un’altro birra per favore’
He smiles, and says, ‘No Sir – it’s – ‘un’altra birra per favore’
In case you missed it – it’s subtle
– ‘altro’ is ‘another’ but
It’s – ‘una beera’
and
Un’altra birra’ not ‘altro’.
Italian has to scan at all times.
My common experience in Italy – if you try with the language – they will always help.
You may disagree – but that has certainly not been my experience in France.
Conclusion
Preferring one country to another can never be-
A matter of fact
but
A matter of Spirit