Our kiddos will remember this particular day on our trip to France. Hopefully, one of them will identify what year this was!
Brian and Amy had never been to Italy, and since we were sooo close, we decided to pop over the border for lunch, just for them to get another country stamped on their fairly new passports.
Our friendly waiter spoke little to NO English. Being hillbillies, we spoke basically NO Italian, beyond pasta, ciao/arrivederci, and grazie. The basics, right? Haley studied French in high school; I took a conversational Spanish class when Haley was in utero (maybe that is where her love of languages began?), so between us, we were able to figure out what was on the menu and get some food ordered. Of course it was good. We were in Italy, the pasta capital of the world!
Handy travel tip: check out the plates of others and find something appealing, point to that plate, then to yourself, and smile.
Handy travel tip #2: if that plate winds up being liver instead of beef stroganoff, hope one of your travel companions likes liver! Ugh…true story, but MM saved the day and traded plates with me. I hate liver!
I have since learned that when traveling to foreign places, always tote a translation book. I have a handy-dandy multiple language book that has been across the pond many times. It has all the basics covered. Sure, there are phone apps nowadays that translate, but Wi-Fi may not be always available or affordable for use.
Who has a “mistaken identity” food story to share?