ITALY – early taste of the West

Bugger nothing did we know about the world beyond the iron curtain during the communist time of our youth in the former Czechoslovakia. Now that I look back the whole lifetime, I could see so clearly how isolated and brainwashed we were. We were so naïve ! We just did not know. Despite our distrust of the system and piecemeal underground education, we could only imagine and guess. A definite uphill and even dangerous way as the commie propaganda was so omnipresent, penetrating every smallest aspect of our life. Total and deadly paranoia dominated the scene. 

Deadly "iron curtain" divided the 

East and West for decades of cold war

Somehow, however, this all did not manage to thwart the apparently genetic human desire to see and get to know the others who lived differently and somewhere else. Unsatiable curiosity penetrated every bone in my body, and my restless brain kept asking and spinning schemes of how to get to see what the the rest of the world was all about. Eventually, some of us managed to breach the confines of our “communist paradise”, using whatever tricks that we could come up with. Many friends just fled the system and disappeared to the West. That was quite a dangerous way to freedom.

ITALY the crazy way - First glimpse of the “West”.

Some cracks started developing in the commie pressure cooker and the rulers reluctantly allowed its citizens at least some limited travel – to other alike “friendly” countries. Among those was then former Yugoslavia. It even had a sea that that we landlubbers had no way of knowing. Through some manipulations a friend and I thus obtained special permits to visit Yugoslavia for a couple of weeks as noted on a piece of paper that was blank at its back. That appearance awoke a bold idea of placing there a special Italian transit visa. Obtained through a friendly assistance of my friend’s girlfriend working at their consulate. The Italians had never seen such a travel document and did not really care where they placed the big transit-visa stamp. Swoosh and bang - there we were good for a 5-day transit through Italy. And we would only see later how or if that would work on the border. We packed a tiny Fiat-600 car borrowed from my friend's parents up to its roof and off we went -

The first and thorough border check, of course, came upon leaving Czechoslovakia. The customs officers paid more attention to the stacks of camping gear and food cans that tried to roll out when they opened the car’s door. That obviously detracted them from checking the funny stamp on the back of a rarely seen travel document. It was all in Italian anyway. They could not understand it and did not care all that much. That’s exactly what we were hoping for and all of a sudden we were in Hungary. Then, for change, we could not understand a word of the Tartarian language around us and anxiously headed right through to the Yugoslavian border.

Yes, they had seen some Czechs with funny travel papers before and waved us through. Yugoslavia was a bit more “western and easier” at that time and we just made a beeline for the Italian border. The “proof of the pudding” would be when we are on the other side of it. A big highway sign “Trieste” only whetted our appetite. We were surprised when the Yugoslavian border patrol fussed over our simplistic travel documents. Somehow, we managed to convince them that it was in place of a Czechoslovakian passport, according to a recent binational agreement. Seeing the Italian visa on the reverse side of this piece of paper calm them down and with our breath held we approached their Italian counterparts. The Italian visa was all that interested them and it worked its magic. So all of a sudden, we were in Italy - wow ! We were at the West side of the iron curtain..

Bright colors and advertizing billboards everywhere, business buzz, flashy things and cheap gasoline – and over there, across Trieste, in the distance, we saw the sea. First time in my life, I saw the Black See in soviet Georgia 3 years before when I was 22.  It was all like a dream. We breathed the freedom and could see the difference.

“Una Coca-Cola grande, formato fimiliare, prego” was the extent of our Italian and we used it right away – and many times after that as we endulged that worldly drink that was unavailable at home. We had very little money but, as we were well trained in camping, all we needed was in the car. Essential potful of cooked lentils was always sitting strategically beside the driver’s seat. We had to keep going like madmen on the loose to see as much as we could in those precious 5 days using the winding side roads since we could not afford toll highways. 
Our immediate and foremost target was closeby - Venice. 

Day and night we wondered the winding narrow streets there and marveled at the ancient watery charm of the gondola city. Nothing was straight there, houses leaning this way and that. We people build right-angle cubical dwellings and cities everywhere – only to spend fortunes travelling to Venice to enjoy its warmth of canals and colorful leaning buildings sitting in water. Amazing -

We crisscrossed north-eastern Italy. I don’t remember where, how or even IF we slept. Treviso, Padua, Vicenza, Verona – and yes, we romantics had to see the Julia’s Balcony and it was indeed there.   Bologna, Florence, Ravenna, Rimini, and the ancient republic of San Marino – 

I vividly recall my conclusion in Florence as we just wandered around – it is so full of magical art and beauty to behold that – Florence, absolutely deserves its own visit, in peace and contemplation. I did a bit of it returning many years later -

Driving somewhere in the hills of Tuscany, lost with my friend and the pot of lentils between us, we enjoyed some sporty driving on the scenic, winding, up-and-down roads. My friend was an ardent auto-rally driver. Naturally, he could not stand another little Fiat trailing right behind us, the car of the same type. Tires started screeching in every one of the thousand turns - with the trailing Fiat following right behind us all the time – bloody shame, we could not shake him. In the heat of the impromptu rally, all of a sudden, our car engine concked out. Dead. As we were sidelined to an abrupt halt, the shadowy Fiat zipped by, its driver with a wide grin giving us his thumb up in delight of this driving duel. 

The explanation was obvious as we saw that car’s tail, half open with a big sign of Abarth. These were special Fiats with an oversize racing engine. That explained the driving skills.

But we were so hopelessly dead on the road shoulder, our engine ceased. My goodness, and we were sooo totally pennyless ! Contemplating, we let the engine and ourselves to naturally cool off. After a nerve-wracking while, hurray!, the engine started up again. Corollary ? Always check also the back of a challenger and don’t mess with professionals. Italians are proverbially good and sporty drivers and appreciate a good competition.

The friend of mine sent back a postcard with a drawing of an eye and a terse comment “This is how I am gaping. John.” By coincidence, it went to my future wife – who later confessed that she could not recall who that John was.

All in all, these were totally frantic 5 days – and they gave us a good flavor of the West. We just confirmed what we always felt – that bloody West was so much ahead, free and better in everything. To elaborate on that would require at least a separate book. We were so overfilled with things to ruminate on when we crossed the border back into the socialistic paradise. 

Rocky shores of Slovenia, Looking West - forever -

But first into the former Yugoslavian republic of Slovenia. Its wild rocky coast just south of Trieste offered a fantastic decompression environment by the sea – the rest of our vacations. We did not even bother pitching our tent. For the Southern warm nights, both of us just crawled into the bush and dreamed of the West we just cracked open – with stars twinkling overhead.
Actually, this whirlwind trip just re-directed our lives. Eventually, my friend has been living in the USA and I have resided in Canada.

Now in retrospect, some 45 years later, we realize how utterly naïve, isolated and brainwashed we were at home. We did what we could though, we are not there anymore – and it does not even exist the silly and cruel way it was. In our absence, the “communist heaven” just evaporated.

Keep it that way –

- and if you insisted on that lentil stew like we did, here is one of brief recipes: