Day 1 was quite a farfetched day for us. Hong Kong only an arms length away broken by the silence of a delayed flight. Unexpected guests to the Sentra hotel. The palace awaited us, over promising its luxury and facilities as the mere sight of this castle welcomed the majority. However on the other side of Auckland a young heart was racing to the depths of its pulse as the news only left nerves to tell the story. As I paced in and out of the bedroom wondering how to pre occupy the sad news. 5 in the morning hit me in the face like a brick wall.

United as a group once more the 9 of us hastily took into consideration the time factor and with a hiss and roar bags were lost for Florence. The stomach churning scene of the plane destined for Hong Kong crippled us all and excitement was burning from the smile on our faces and one last glance at home that was hastly forgotten. Watching paint dry looked more amusing then sitting on a plane for 12 hours.

Smog and skyscrapers filled the HOT AIR. The hot air hit us like a baseball bat sending my sweat glands into overdrive. The depravity of cold water did not assist but shops were shining and we all were rather wealthy. $3000 Hong Kong dollars and a few cell phones and I pods later people were under the impression that the lottery had paid us a visit. The one summary of the day being food.


Zurich? People would have mistaken it for an anaesthetic. But as we stepped off the plane this place was just awesome. However mister know it all me had to feel the awesome temperature of 9 degrees solidify my body. The airport was a relief as heaters warmed my frost bitten body and at 12 pm in the afternoon we were distorted onto the plane to Firenze (Florence). The disembarkment into the airport found us bamboozled to be re-united with the bags I thought we had lost.
Italy gifted us with the honourable presence of Prof. Paolo Badiali, Susanna Rossi and Ivo Malevolti. Who would have contemplated their own Italian speaking tour guides. Thank the lord for blessing Paolo with the english speaking tongue. The stunning Sam Miniato one of the first martyrs of Florence in the 4th century. Decapitated by the romans and legend states that he walked headless. For a second visit to the place I would do anything. Just the thought of being in the presence of a historic relic preserved for our pleasure and knowledge. Broadening the minds of even the most ego centric people. The prestige this place holds can only be imagined.
After what felt like a marathon of a walk Samuelas bright face greeted us as we walked into their palace. Our faces disabled with jet lag and the distinct fatigue expression enclosed on us. We tried our hardest to disturb the tiredness from eating away at us but the irresistible exhaustion of what felt like a hard rugby game soon kicked us square in the kidneys, so hard that Samuelas floor felt as though I had fallen into a cloud.


Waking up in a pool of dribble and a different place I woke up surprisingly in a bed I don’t remember getting in. or a house I can't remember entering and a street I don’t remember walking and an area I don’t recall inhabiting. So an early start for us(Jet lag is really inconvenient) to have a sweet Italian breakfast with Aldo Cantini. The coffee tasted like 100 coffee beans had been forced down my throat but Aldo made up for it by giving us what tasted like weet bix smothered in chocolate.
Licheo Giotto Ulivi students greeted us with oogling eyes and I swear one of them was thinking, “who the f%^k are they and what are they doing here.”
Thanks Paolo we really enjoyed the most embarrassing moment in Italy but our minds were laid to rest knowing that more embarrassing moments were yet to come.
An unexpected presentation to a few classrooms with a few shaming hakas gave our throats a thrashing. Coughing to try and rejuvenate our voices did no good as we had lost our voices. And whaea Rosalyn in desperation to try and find our voices with no success.
Only no one could have guessed the Town hall had reservations for us. By the Queens right arm so did the Mayors batty boy(representative). Photos were treasured and presents were exchanged. We dug deep in our pockets to salvage a New Zealand scarf and a very mind-numbing atlas of New Zealand, suitably in English.
The afternoon was more than what expected as Aldo took us to the entrance of Big Boys Toys, Italy. we were met with an average sized man who I later on found out was one of the top dogs of the track hosting us around the facilities. I almost had a heart attack when a bike piercingly passed us. A lightning bolt sprinted up my back and burst at my neck with excitement. Judging by the looks on the faces of my fellow colleagues the feeling was beyond a grammatical stage as we were all enthusiastic about the tour. We were shown around the complex and sat in places fit for a king to then realise that Stats enthusiasm had risen beyond the fore front of excitement and blossomed into a state of adrenaline. We exited the complex and into the car park to witness four drop dead gorgeous girls who I had the privilege of getting a picture with. So far being the highlight of the trip from an adolescent’s perspective. mugello race track.. Good place.
Dinner in the Playboy Mansion (kind regards Cantini Whanau)


Greeted by the two love birds Marco and Gulia they escorted us through Florence visiting such places as santa MARIA DEL FIORE, the Cathedral in Florence. From a distant we all thought we all fell in love. As our eyes scoped in and out of their sockets a discovery was made. Her arms welcoming us. Yes people the perfect most wonderful little thing we saw. Puma gear under €100. The shop made us react in a manner only known to women of over buying as shoes and watches and belts made their way into our hands. Leaving us beyond broke. Soon after our love was soiled by the depletion of our parent hard earn’t money, and with the lack of self control our fun became the bridge to bankruptcy. My first Italian word (Ti amo) and such timing it was, Samuelas appearance seemed quite anomalous after realising that it meant I love you. Palazzo Vecchio showed us the life a medicci, and the art work was one to fall head over heels for. Just the thought of waking up in and looking at the roof and the first thing you see is a splendid depiction portrayed in an art form just watching you sleep sent my thoughts into a thunderous horizon of what my house could look like in the near future. The presence of more females made me a little edgy as we were all sweaty. Caring was not on the agenda and Samuela helped us back to Borgo and once again the gang was split as we went our separate way.
Peculiar the dinners in Borgo were. Restraunt style of 3 courses hit us hard on the belt line. Stomachs were stretched beyond contempt. Once again the Cantini Whanau had catered another good meal.

Yes School. Dam School. Wait, school? A reality check had to be done as I was trying to figure out why I was so excited about school. School the place were your mind gets judged on its compatibility with random words and numbers that gets injected into it. Force feeding your brain with unwanted and in some cases useless bits of information. But then like a light bulb my head was struck with a enchanting thought telling me that it was my turn to bore out the students. In this relationship with school I get to wear the pants for once. But I doubted rugby as a plausible subject to teach in the pursuit of boredom. Enjoyable it was. The site of boys my age actually listening to me and taking in what I have to say filled my heart with good intentions, kynda like eating caramel chocolate when it just melts in your mouth sending your taste buds to cloud nine. In the end I was quite proud of us three as a trio. We had managed to teach ametuers how to play rugby and by Queen Elizabeths name there was potential. The mystery that Italians are multi-talented in sport certainly was demonstrated in the days work. It was great to see. Only a professional could have judged their performance as if they had been playing since they were young.
After a great period of teaching it was once again our responsibility to teach the younger students of the local school. Yes finally we were given a free day to tour the giant town of Borgo meeting a lot of Sams friends who were also looking at us in a strange way.


Aldo woke us up early again to meet the other people at the train station. 2 hours later and €131 later we found ourselves in Venice. I actually thought people were lying when they said its on the water. To my surprise it was an amazing town that cannot be described in words. To do so would only risk spoiling its beauty. The only thing I can safely say is that you must visit it yourself.

The arrival into Pisa was beyond exciting. Just the crew from New Zealand chilling together at the famous foundation flaw still admired in the 21st century. Its peculiar shape compliments its surroundings and shows us that the Italians have a knack for preserving ancient artefacts that have changed the way people think about architecture.
I swear if you had have seen Julias parents house I swear it can be mistaken for the Buckingham palace. The food was mouth-watering. Even Stats and Rosalyn seem to be enjoying themselves. I spent my evening agreeing with all the happenings(Sono Dakordo). Then the trio were kindly escorted through the Borgo teenage night life with Deboarah, Elizabeth and Julia, together having some quiet Diet 7 ups and Coca Cola. Borgo is alive on Saturday nights filled with youth. A very welcoming place to terrestrial visitors.

Our only free day brandished with a trip to Firenze. Getting to the point where my legs were giving in.(No wonder why Italians have good figures). We had walked the length of Florence only to find out that things are a lot cheaper in Borgo. Once again we were re-united with our baby girl… the Puma shop with no good intention to save the money. Spending as if tomorrow was Armageddon. Paolo and his family were very good hosts and the standard of the food made you feel like a prince as his wife worked so hard that just watching her tired me. A very loving family. Complete and wholesome.

Beating the roosters to wake Marco dragged our sorry little bottoms to Paolo. Whaea Rosalyns face had no choice but to bring out the sun. The highlight of her trip was almost to be fulfilled. Sardinia greeted us with an 11 hour sleep on a couch that caught every last drop of my dribble. Stats really showed his love for us by making sure that Red Bull had no alcohol content in it. And again reading the label that eventually convinced him that red bull does no such harm. Whaea Rosalyn replied with a smile brighter than the sun that gleamed and stunned onlookers. Her excitement was so clear that my reflection bathed in it like a mirror reflecting an image of Cinderella. as unbelievable as it was reality shook us all. We were on an exotic island. The sun felt within reaching distance of us. Almost kissing my winter skin, browning me. The feeling of cool water as it choked anything that may have upset my relaxation described what heaven may have been. The beach was something only found in Fiji and Samoa, but Paolo managed to bring it to Sardinia. Dinner was done by a master chef that night, who made food, fit for a king.

The next day was greeted by Stats who I thought was about to go milking Cows as he woke up before time could start. Good old Stats got us all into line and managed to keep me awake until 12 after convincing me to come to Porto Cervo. I see why Princess Diana liked it there. They had ships bigger than Kimbolton that could have catered for a village. The shops were off the hook. Mind you so were the prices. A place I suggest to all men not to take their wives to, just looking at the prices gave me a financial heart attack. The afternoon was spent admiring the inside of my eyelids while Stats Rosy Paolo and Rangiora went to go hunt for a beach.

Thursday morning. Once again Stats was racing to help the sun rise but I don’t think making breakfast was part of it. Though it would have been very nice. Whaea Sheralee had been restored to full health and we all were up for a trip to go visit the brother Garibaldi. His island was so big. The house was well preserved and amazing. Honouring his name would not have been enough to help describe his importance. A statue only showed half of its importance.
That afternoon I was to be replaced as a sheep. Stats could not help himself. He was missing home. He had fun chasing me across the sand and a lifetime of farming still wasn’t enough to catch this black sheep.
Dinner was again unforgettable as the same chef managed to cook another great meal. We were entertained with an Italian mistro. His voice so golden cleaned the ear wax from my ears and sent a shiver up my spine.

Friday hit me like A MIGRANE disheartening my thoughts. We were about to leave this holiday island and probably not return. The boat greeted us again, haha so did the customs officer looking at me like I was the reason for Wall st banks going under. One last glance at a heavenly place was unbearable. I just turn, sway and walk away. Too great to be missed. Too special not to be revisited. A very bumpy ride home made me so sick that my shoe lace was turning green.
Once again we touched land Stats and I couldn’t wait to get off the boat. We returned late to Borgo San Lorenzo to return to the comforts of home. Our beds were still the same and excitement over took us boys when Samuela finally decided to unlock the door for us.

Saturday…. Our only rest day. (Went quicker as) I couldn’t believe myself. Due to the continued Jet Lag we were up at 10 am. (Thanks Stats), the adults enjoyed the sight seeing that day in the Rivena that pleased the eyes with mosaics and 5^th century churches. A truly gratifying experience. The highlight of that day was the atmosphere created by the youth on the Saturday night. Borgo San Lorenzo had young people everywhere destined to enjoy the only free school night of the week. The music that was played left us puzzled. The most imprinted moment that night was that we fell upon an ice cream shop at 2 am. The one and only thing that kept us awake that early morning. I couldn’t believe it.

Thanks to Mr Badiali we all got to feel like Italian TV stars as the local TV station interviewed us about our exchange to Italy. That same night Stefano’s family gladly welcomed us to his hometown where we had a lot of Pizza and a lot of Pop Fizz. There was not a sign of awkwardness as the families piled into the mini-mansion.

Hoping and praying for this day not to come, it came. Yes we had to say goodbye to everyone. Cameras were flicking as if our fingers were stuck on the button. We were savouring the moments and taking mental notes as we were desperate not to forget the times in Borgo.

The train greeted us early the next morning. Hearts were low stomachs were holding onto the ocean of tears that would have come out. We spent an hour sitting with our heads down waiting for the train to stop in Rome.

The roads in Rome were filled to the pockets with cars pedestrians and ancient relics that I thought were impressive and huge. The only thing I couldn’t come to grips with is that everything was meant to look old. When in fact the only old thing that looked aged was the Colosseum and what surrounded it. A staggering sight to see, despite the fact that our legs were going to give way anytime soon.  I was taken away by the Trevi fountain. The description I have made of it is mortifying. The carved marble figures looked so realistic almost as If they were inspecting you. The Coloseum brought back memories of when I wasn’t a gladiator fighting in the big dome, when I defeated both the lions and Caesar and his kingdom. Yes good times.

The funny thing about the Sistine Chapel was that they told you to be quite when the people who were telling you to be quite really drowned out all voices and for a period of 20 minutes all that could be heard was ‘Silenzio, Silent , Be quite.’ Once again Michelangelo a great work of art. If only people all over the world could appreciate your hard work and efforts.

The next morning I was tempted to nail myself to the bed because unfortunately in the blink of an eye our trip had concluded. The same happened again, a quick plane trip to Zurich and a plane trip that felt longer than life back to Hong Kong and then Auckland.

A great trip Thanks to all families we met talked to and learnt from. An exhilarating experience, once in a lifetime opportunity, urge all to try travel beyond Pacific waters. A great place, safe and secure(well none of my things got stolen).

Shout out to Paolo Badiali and Samuele  and the Cantini family, thanks a lot for hosting us.

Voglio tornare in Italia.

Arrivederci