La Vespa Vita was my boyfriend’s idea. Or my fidanzato as we call them over here in Italy. (Yes, everyone is “fianced” in this country because why on earth else would you be dating if you weren’t thinking drastically long term after just one kiss? I ask you.) My Better Homes and Gardens freelance blog assignment was about to end, and I had had too much fun doing it to say goodbye so soon. I had also just bought myself a 1969 Vespa 50N which I was planning on restoring down to every last historically-accurate detail. While musing over how to continue my Italian lifestyle blog and how to best restore my Vespa, my fidanzato said quite simply “Blog your Vespa.” The lightbulb that switched on in my head was a single circular headlight silhouetted between a delicate handlebar over a petite but proud barreled chest. La Vespa Vita was born.
I had a vision (as I so often do) of recounting the journey of my vintage Vespa’s restoration step by careful step. Of it being so detailed and so diabolically funny that it would grow to book length and be worthy of a charming slip jacket featured in Barnes & Nobles Booksellers all across the USA. Italian-American girl finds herself in muddied motorized heart of Italian icon.
But the clouds of my vision soon cleared, and reality took front and center stage. Reality #1: Vespas don’t take that long to take apart. Within only a few sittings, in a variety of weather conditions, we had dismounted all of her pieces down to the bare chassis. Reality #2: I wouldn’t have been able to do it alone. Despite the small number of bolts, some of those bolts were screwed/rusted on so tightly that even my amateur boxer fidanzato had a tough time knocking them loose (saws and metal filers were at times utilized). Reality #3: The big jobs are better left to the professionals. Yes, Vespa engines are extremely simple machines, but any machine works (and is fixed) best in the hands of those who know it. I also can’t expect a can of spray paint to compete with a professional dust-proof bodyshop when it comes to refinishing.
So in the end, my Vespa’s restoration hopped along in fits and spurts much like her engine soon will on the road, while my Vespa’s blog did not. There just wasn’t enough to write about. Sure, ideas for posts unrelated to the Vespa jumped into my head almost weekly, but life, work, this that and the other… Ok, there’s no real excuse. The Italian in me has been coming out more and more since I arrived here almost 2 years ago, and she has a tendency to say, “Sit back, enjoy life, have another bowl of pasta; you can write the recipe down tomorrow.” Thank goodness for the American, then, who wants that recipe written down, filed in the appropriate folder, and forwarded on to all of my culinary-inclined acquaintances via the various modern modes of communication, mixingbowl.com included.
Basically, I’m eager to be blogging about Italy. And I hope you enjoy the results—pasta recipes, seaside reflections, and motorino restorations included.
