10 Ottobre – Can't We All Just Get Along?

My cellphone rang at 12:14AM from a Venice landline phone number. I could see it was an phone in the hotel where my friends work and where my tours stay. The Consulate, we call it in my home. Giorgio? Aldo? Serena? Marco? Probably him... oh great. But it was a good sign that it wasn't a serious problem with his mother if he was calling from work.

So my first question was why he was working at night on a Monday, which isn't usual for him. The full time night concierge hasn't been there long enough to be on vacation yet. “So, why are you at work?” is how I greeted him.

“Madonn' – crazy crazy times. Crazy crazy world.” Nice response, buddy. “I am here at night for the

next three weeks. Luigi is in the hospital.” He then went on to tell me the almost unbelievable tale of poor Luigi. He was working on Sunday night and at 3AM a guest came downstairs, completely inebriated, to find the bar closed (as it does at 1AM) and he asked for a bottle of liquor to be sent up to his room since the bar was closed. Luigi told him that room service was closed for the night as well, at 2AM the kitchen is completely closed out. And the drunken bastard proceeded to beat the crap out of Luigi. He put him in the hospital with broken limbs and a busted jaw.

Dude. Seriously. Somebody has a problem. Wow.

All I could ask was “Please tell me it wasn't a guest on a tour...” No. Whew. I didn't even want to know if the guy was American. I can't bear that piece of information.

Well this is just awful news to hear. So, my friend has to pick up the slack and work nights full time for a few weeks, possibly a few months. The upside is that he can have a “normal schedule” even if it is nocturnal. Rather than 2 days 1st shift, 2 days 2^nd shift, 2 days graveyard. Oy.

I told him I would see him on Friday night after my group arrives, and told him to tell Mamma I would come over that afternoon to take her to church while he was sleeping. I rang off and tried to go back to sleep, but I kept thinking about the hidden dangers and surprises the hospitality industry has. Apparently you just never know when some belligerent drunk on vacation is going to freak out and slam your head on the marble desktop. I've seen my friends in their share of scrapes while traveling, caused by their own stupidity and drunkenness but it usually is just losing your wallet in a strip joint or getting a shakedown in a bathroom in Mexico. Nobody has gone completely berserk as far as I know and given a beatdown to an undeserving person.. Jeez Louise.

We left the Umbria region that morning on the bus after checking everyone out and made our way into Tuscany. After a 90 minute ride we arrived in the hill town of San Gimignano. It's a lovely little place, even if it is a bit overrun with English speaking tourists. This is the famous “town of towers.” San Gimignano, or “Gimi” as the tourists shorten it because they can't manage the “gna” sound (think nyah nyah nyah and you have it.) In medieval times it was a status thing to build a tower home for your family if you had wealth. It was a lookout for approaching marauders, a fortress against your enemies, in town and out, and an excellent one-up to the neighbors. Multiple floors and the kitchen up top for fire safety (let it burn upward out of the roof versus having it lower to the ground and completely destroying all the floors as well as the edifice. Some didn't even have proper doors, one climbed up a ladder to get in. They were narrow, like a Jenga game, and built as high as they could go without toppling over, which many did.

At one time there 72 towers in the city, now there are only 17 standing. We toured the town, had lunch and set off for the coast to Viareggio where we would stay the night across from the beach.