And One for- GODDAMNIT, ZUBAT
Dear reader, I am in love. I realized it today. I am in love with a German girl. She’s beautiful, tall, and she feels perfect when I hold her. No, Dina, it isn’t you. I don’t know what her name is, but she’s from the 16th century. Look at her.
She’s a hand-and-a-half sword. Her balance is perfect, and she’s in incredible condition. I’ve never held a weapon like this before. I’ve been looking for an antique sword. My father and I collect them, and it’s time I contributed to the collection. We have a lot of sabres and rapiers, but we lack a good two-handed sword, like a hand-and-a-half or a claymore. More on this later.
We had a pretty relaxing day. We decided we needed to do laundry. Will went looking for the laundry room while I bought tokens. He was gone forever. When he came back, I asked what took so long. He said the laundry room was in the BATCAVE, and was it ever! The laundry room was far, far away and in a cave. It was also the devil. The first machine ate our money like crazy and didn’t actually wash clothes. The buttons made no sense. The dryers were similar. Instead of costing 4.5 Euro each, it cost about 8. That was how much trouble we went through. It sucked.
When we finally got our laundry done, we took a bus to the station to buy a ticket to Rome. Will mentioned that he had finally found an antique dealer who seemed to deal in swords. We hiked over there (it was only 1.2kM from the station). We went in, and he had a fucking beautiful collection of swords (everything from a sabre to a claymore), halberds, crossbows, and other such antique weapons (he even had a katar). He also explained to us that Italy has insane laws. He was one of the SEVEN people in the entire COUNTRY licensed to deal in antique weapons. Unlike replicas, which are made for decoration, antique weapons were purpose-built…for war. They are made to take hits and dish them out. Because of this, they are considered to be the same sort of deadly weapon as a handgun. Yeah.
Italy's Perception of Reality
To buy a sword from this guy, I would have had to get an American gun license and have a 60 day waiting period. 30 days to get an export license from Italy, and 30 days to get a police permit, which they’ll only issue if they receive an American gun license from the American police or a written notice from the American police saying “Yeah, this dude can have a sword.” Now, it’s even worse with a halberd. A halberd is considered an “unusual weapon” (it’s a polearm, if you’re not familiar…long ass stick with a spear/axe on the end) and there’s an extra 20 day waiting period for it. In fact, it’s in the same Italian classification as a Kalashnikov assault rifle. Seriously.
No, really, they actually believe this
In fact, the Italians are so crazy about this that the guy had to get licensed as an arm dealer. He had to get an examination from the Police in which he had to recite the chemical contents of C4, how to make TNT, and so forth. That’s why there are only seven (legal) dealers in the country.
They had an awesome claymore, but it was 9,000 Euro. My girl was 6,000 Euro and taken by another man. Sigh. At least there was a pretty view outside.
Let’s talk about today’s food. For lunch, Will and I went to the little restaurant outside the hostel. We continued the trend of adventure where we just picked things off the menu that we could least understand. Will ended up with some crazy pasta with peppers and green sauce of some kind. The waitress said I ordered something with “mint, light mint.” Apparently, she meant to say “MEAT.” I got tagliatelle just fucking covered in beef. I am a vegetarian. Fail.
I had been slowly eating it, pretty unhappy, and the waitress came by. I asked where the mint was. She looked very confused. I explained that she said mint, and she was like “What? No. MEAT. It’s good, no?” I said, “Yes, it’s fine! I’m just a vegetarian. No problem, though!” She immediately looked aghast, grabbed it before I could say anything, and said, “No!” She then explained that I was going to be eating some penne with zucchini flower sauce and some stuff I don’t remember. I had no choice in the matter. It was delicious as hell. For dessert, I got chocolate cake (AKA liquid chocolate with a crust) and Will got an epic cheesecake with strawberries. This was nothing compared to our dinner.
For dinner, we went to some random trattoria near-ish to the train station. The first thing we learned was the restaurant's opinion of us. Will ordered a Coke, and I ordered a Sprite. The restaurant sent a very clear message with how it presented our drinks. Apparently, Will is infinitely more classy than I am.
I had a margherita pizza as an appetizer, and ricotta/spinach ravioli in a rose sauce for a main course. Will had chicken with roast potatoes. For dessert, I had strawberries in fresh custard. Literally, just in a BOWL full of custard, totally submerged. Will had tiramisu in a similar custard bath. Yes, our meals are more amazing than yours. Yes, they are cheap. Yes, you should cry.
Sidenote 1: We had hot showers today (as opposed to sink-washing). It was awesome.
Sidenote 2: Zubat is everywhere in Pokémon, and he’s even made it to Firenze.
Will’s Corner
No, really. Cry.
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Dear Joe,
You know, when we write these, we are thinking of you. That means we think of you every day. Usually right before we go to bed (winky face). You are a good friend.
Love,
Will and Andy
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