Disneyland Syndrome

Finally made it to Italy!

From the Pisa Airport, our group took a bus over to Marina de Piestrasanta where we moved in to our home for the week, Hotel Eden Park. A lady named Anna runs the hotel as well as acts as head chef!! She is a fantastic cook and always makes our group extra dishes.

The food at Eden Park is out of this world. I’m learning that sit down meals in Italy are a VERY long affair. I’m talking 5 course meals. So far we generally start out with a small appetizer, which is followed by sometime TWO courses of pasta. Then we are offered an array of salads and side dishes followed by dessert and fruit. When you think you’ve had more than you could possibly eat, they bring out another plate of food. What I found very interesting is how Italian waiters do not wait for you to finish the plate of food as they do in America. They still make sure you are finished, but it seems like it is much more acceptable to still have about half of your plate left and be considered “done.”

For breakfast so far I’ve had coffee with a croissant and Nutella. The coffee, of course, is fantastic. But is that really a surprise? The hotel puts out quite a spread each morning: Italian cereal to fruit, yogurt, prosciutto, eggs, cookies, lattes (warm milk) and more. I feel like I should try out Italian-specific items but the croissants are too good.

Hotel Eden Park is located right by the beach. AIFS rented out a row of tents along the water for us to put our things. Right at the entry to our reserved area is a beach shop that includes drinks, food, and most importantly, wifi!! (there is horrible wifi in the Marina) The entire beach is jammed pack with people and tents. Vendors (who supposedly are from North Africa) walk the beach selling fake purses and sunglasses. Everyone is tan, fit and gorgeous; it is definitely intimidating. Everyone, even the older grandparents, wear bikinis and speedos. It looks like a movie.

I’m living a dream. This, according to a police officer who came from Florence for our safety orientation, is called the Disneyland Syndrome. Sounds about right.